sitting on a desk, with no time to look my way
The voices seem depressed, musics gone away
And fighting a battle that they cant understand,
stands a man whose taking all their hands,
and its decided, and tacked that they must carry on
through the forest, past deception, and into the valley of green
With walls collapsing, from the force of dead body's
and minds releasing their karmic relentlessness
I see a man with his head in his hands,
he reminds me of a picture Ive seen, but doesn't seem quite real