Ruin thrones are what he saw observing them
In their home
They seem to him like prisoners of the metropolis
Enchanted by the extreme images on the screen
He thinks people are chained and frozen by magic
He’s a stranger and he wanders around
But he is not lost
He can’t return to his age
But fantasy is his last escape
From this urban hate spreading
His hidden place where he retrieves lyrics
And melodies to entertain you all
Punished by the raging envy, his gift stolen from his hands
Forced to survive in an hostile land among those
Walking dead scaring him
He runs away they’re everywhere he cries alone
He hides himself
He’s got no home he’s got no hope he’s got his songs
He’s got no home (he’s got his songs)
To protect him
From this modern disease known as frenzy
He can’t return to his age
But fantasy is his last escape
From this urban hate spreading
His hidden place where he retrieves lyrics
And melodies to entertain you all
Inertia is crawling
He can’t return to his age
But fantasy is his last escape
From this urban hate spreading
His hidden place where he retrieves lyrics
And melodies to entertain you all
For you all
