|
Picking up the pieces of my life |
|
I wonder why the hell I ever came here |
|
A man without a future left to face |
|
And nothing but a memory to embrace |
|
Holding on to threads of sanity |
|
Imagining the roads I could have taken |
|
It fills me with a deepening sense of shame |
|
And outside I can hear the pouring rain |
|
There is a place |
|
Where in my mind I escape |
|
And there I understand the way I feel |
|
And deep in this world of make-believe |
|
I will spend my autumn years with you |
|
Sitting in this grey and sunless world |
|
I try to come to terms with guilty feelings |
|
A man about to pay the final price |
|
And nothing but his breath to sacrifice |
|
There'll be a time |
|
When I'll be gone from your mind |
|
A fading ghost that soon will disappear |
|
And deep in my would of endless pain |
|
I must face my autumn years |
|
I'm picking up the pieces, I'm picking up the pieces |
|
I'm picking up the pieces, I'm picking up the pieces |
|
Picking up the pieces of my life |
