Asylums for abandoned dreams
And aborted revolutions
The echoes of a dying mind
It's only the faces that change
And you walk again
Along that thin white line
A poem for the dead
A refuge for the weak
Staring through a photograph
Do you ever wonder how you're still holding on?
This is what you've become
And you're no longer in control
Pictures of white fences on the cover of a housewives' magazine
There is so much left to lose
Her portrait is still hanging on the wall
From the bottom of an empty gla** your own reflection points and laughs
There is so much left to lose
And you're no longer in control
Staring through a photograph
Do you ever wonder how you're still holding on?
This is what you've become
And you're no longer in control