Tired Eyes

Walking through the streets plexus
 The air smells like plethoric fantasies
 Esplanades are littered with debris
 Streets are filled with eclectic melodies
 Looking forward, moving straight ahead
 Old diary pages in hand
 Moving silent through the city of mind
 That shows its dirty seamy side

 There is something stronger than him...

 [CHORUS]
 The only thing that keeps him going
 Is the fact that he could stop someday
 Turn these hateful streets to ruins
 Now he sees his only way

 Keeping the silence,
 thinking aloud
 Multiform thoughts
 like furious crowd
 No changes
 in distand perspective
 To destroy all around
 It is only objective
 Poet is in the gripe
 of the pages
 Dancers are trapped
 in the rib cages
 Broken strings
 sound like desperate cries
 And city stares into his tired eyes...

 There is something stronger than him...

 [CHORUS]