Am I too severe to myself?
Or can not find anywhere self-discipline?

The lack of desire,
which lives inside these concrete walls,
a great change to turn my back
on time.

I drown on the mornings into the waves
which can't be seen.
And turn so cold as the break of day,
but not afraid,
to shiver when the wind blows,
on my face.

Voice in the room
is my doubting thought.
Now I'm tired all alone
in two dimensions.

Drifting on the edge,
your're in prison
but still be free.
It's like clouds passing by,
bringing water when they cry.

I drown on the mornings into the waves
which can't be seen.
And turn so cold as the break of day,
and not afraid.

A great division of good and bad,
anticipates.
The false commitments will never last,
when I need them.
To get back those who's nearly been,
a real.

I drown on the mornings into the waves...
And turn so cold as the break of day...
Break of day...
As the break of day.