8 acessos
A nameless figure at a peak
A state at which he cannot speak
Standing so far above it all
A man preparing for the fall
Floating along the urban sun
Shining upon the only one
His future hanging by a thread
Romantic thoughts within his head
And he waits
Though his friends arrive
No answers are in tow
He is young
And it's hard for him to see
And he waits
For the feeling that he lost so long ago
To be loved, to be free
His mother calling from below
Telling him never to let go
He seems to stand there with such grace
A peaceful look upon his face
He holds a letter in his hand
His friends will never understand
Without a heart there's just a hole
That shows the darkness of his soul
And he waits
Though his friends arrive
No answers are in tow
He is young
And it's hard for him to see
And he waits
For the feeling that he lost so long ago
To be loved, to be free