There's a minds eye gallery
Where folk we for free
Free to more up down in narrow circles or stand still
The last one pretty hard
Because of the crowd
But the place has its rules, for people's safety
That is why, here the guardians say
Every day
We suggest you go choosea direction and
Start walking you way
Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up
Run until night, just living your life...
Pick a man, you really should
Ask him where he's going to
He will go like: "i'm sorry bloke, cant stop, i have to go"
Yet he's going now here
Guess he doesnt really care
'Cause he's trapped since his birth within the structure
They do not understand, they do not see the point
Un the role they're called to play
The director is dead hundred seasons ago
But they're acting just the same
To the left, to the right, to the left to the right
And if you stop, to them you're a loser
Tell me now when the wil realize ther own so called "liberty"
It's just nothing but runningso quickly
In a circle gallery?
Where the walls are the rules, and the sky is the claim
They won't see
How woul they feel?
What should they say?
We've lost many poets there,
Stoned out of their winds
When they have discovered there's
No front or behind
And they realize they'd been betrayed
Can peace make the difference?
'Cause during the war
I'm told people felt so close
They went through it all
Feeling to rely in each other's hands
I've found a way out!
The guardians call me borderline
I stand and i'm proud
I left the place so far behind
I claim for my war
Rejecting it all
I'm looking for the man that i can call...
...me
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