Day Of Joy

What are these dark and wicked things you always show me?

Cutting deep inside the blind part of my overloaded mind.

Spinning on to become a gentle yet a foul and elusive thought.

I create, but I cannot decipher that what's in my head.

I hide.

I see we have a fight once more, how they never pass me by.

It's unbelievable how they always arrive on time.

Tranquillize me with aggressive drugs, yet awake I see they never left my

sleeping head.

I'm running out of time, were running out of time.

I'm running out of time, were running out of time.

I have lost my sense on a bitter day,

Yet I lay my trust in your bleeding hands.

Hoping that my faith will never die.

Were running out of time.