He travels inside his head Wishing his chair was his bed Hours on paper, to earn his leisure While biding his time towards pleasure
He imagines a fiction ocean Carrying his strongest emotions To a peaceful place, where he can rest Among his reasons to be blessed
He is tied to this dream Silence falls at his scene He is tied
CHORUS Life is not his to live Still clutching to a dream Where he knows his scene So pitiful Life is not his to give Still clutching to a dream Where he knows his scene So pitiful and frail