I started to,
break my own heart.
'Cause,
travelling on a dusty road,
I was never the first to know.
Times I wonder,
people like us,
never know where to go.
We were born,
with a fiery aura of hope.
But then left to drift,
in the icy flow of despair.
The freedom,
can't be the end for me.
I think,
I am looking for,
a place that snows.
But,
who knows,
where I'll actually go.I