Life is a perverted game,
   rotten, without fantasy.
   Freedom is a hollow flame,
   hope a kind of irony.
  
   All around I feel decay
   following my rusty rails.
   Trapped in sacred yesterday
   people walk back on their trails.
  
   Their mistakes they make again,
   and I don't know what to do.
   The result would be the same
   so I only wait for you.
  
   Years ago I knew my way,
   lived a life of harmony.
   As I remember every day
   this walk turned into agony.
  
   Angel of the light,
   can't you see my aching heart ?
   Envoy of the bright,
   won't you bring me wings to start
   my eternal flight ?