How true

There is a window
That looks towards the evening sun
But I rarely look outside
There is a big ball
Of wool with millions of loose ends
That I like to call my mind

What if there's no light at the end of the tunnel?
What if we're tied to the top of the train?
What if our tale just goes on and we go slowly insane?

There is a café
I wait and watch the people pass
Going wherever they go
Why have I come here?
I knew that you would not be there
And still I feel so low

What if there's a world where I could be the number
One of the many who are standing in line?
What if we could fly to the clouds and above, slowly divine?

No more walks on gravel roads for us
The stones have turned to dust
No more white sheets on a hotel bed at night
Where I'll end up dead inside

What if your voice and your face is a fire
To warm my thoughts on a cold day like this?
What if I go down with flying colors, slowly adrift?