A Fine Day to Exit

Long way from home, nowhere to go. What made the river so cold? The sweat of thoughts, trickle down my brow. Soaking and stinging my eye. You've got to face it, head on. So you can turn this thing around, because this ain't right. Telltale signs and cries, of dreams unfulfilled, and time is running, running dry. Panic stricken bloodshot hearts. Try to restart, but no longer build the well, to survive sweet oblivion. You've got to face it, head on. So you can turn this thing around, because this ain't right. I've got these feelings, and I don't know why. I see all my fears, in the darkness of light. What made the river so cold? Never anyone to rearrange and fall to, time inside the empty. Call to the blameless, I am faithless. Placid dying eyes. You've got to face it, head on. So you can turn this thing around, because this ain't right. You have to go eye to eye. Raise your face to the sky, because this ain't right. I got to believe when I say, only this is the way.