No one comes to feed me
No one cares to heal me
No one needs to save me
No one dares to look into my eyes
I feel like a lost word
Trapped somewhere and somehow
In the blank pages of an unwritten book
Mankind looks at me
Just like a fool or a madman
But it doesn't know that in my world all is full of grace
Grace is in my arms
Trapped in this strait-jacket
Grace in this white room
Empty for your blind eyes but so crowded for my mind
Gray is your life
A perennial pursuit for a formal perfection
I can see deep through you
The nothingness of your souls
A black shroud on your emotions
Choked by your plastic goals
Finally your time has come
Now decadence and decay
Leave scars on your faces
And damage like a surgical blade
I feel like a lost word
Trapped somewhere and somehow
In the blank pages of an unwritten book
Mankind looks at me
Just like a fool or a madman
But it doesn't know that in my world all is full of grace
Grace is in my arms
Trapped in this strait-jacket
Grace in this white room
Empty for your blind eyes but so crowded for my mind
Gray is your life
A perennial pursuit for a formal perfection
No one (will) leave to feed
(I don't) need anyone to save me
I took my decision
I don't want to be part
Of this ridiculous
Circus of puppets
Trapped in a pathetic screenplay
Until they die
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
Sign in to post the first listener note. Reporting stays open to everyone.