Standing in a lighthouse , with my eyes towards the sun.
I belong there i'll be strong there.
A fugitive from options , before it have begun.
I can't do it , i just can't commit.
It's just a slight , restatement of the play
Only a light , restatement of the play.
Standing in a corner , my palms towards my face.
I cant do it , i just can't commit.
Leaving this world , means a different time or space.
I belong there. i'll be strong there.
It's just a slight . . . .
When lions on monuments are rising to roar.
Presidents , play golf , lift there heads to shout fore.
Are we winning or losing?
We turn to the play.
And read that the options , may come to us some day.
Oh , do we need it do we care , can we see it everywhere.
When huns were attacking , our castles and our farms.
And then went to spread the word of god , with soldiers , with arms.
Did we feel the god of progress , caressing our cheeks?
Is it true that we are looking , and that we find what we seek?
Oh , do we need it do we care , can we touch what we cant bear.