I try to remember what it's like to dream with my own eyes (with my own eyes).
Because I keep forgetting what is right;
can't tell truth from lies (sunset from rise)...
If I could learn to act patiently
then I would see that my view of time is selfishly based around me...
I should run away, but I can't;
chasing dreams that are slowing down for me.
I should turn around, but I can't.
It's within my reach; runaway...
With rising valleys and sinking peaks,
nothing in between (that I can see).
It seems my pride is on repeat;
oh how they need me (it's not me they need).
