searching way out of here
this place will not be
my cemetery
'couse sun looks down on me
it tells: keep searching,
it is my time, my time to leave here

out of time, must be losing my mind
I've got no prayers left to pray

all little things, which make my mind
puts pieces back together, right?

so, take me far away,
where these bright skies could never fade away,
I'm not here to stay

talking and thinking straight
is this really the right choice,
right choice to make
'couse sun looks down on me
it tells: stop praying,
thers no need to,
as with such a deceit

out of time, losing my fucking mind
i've got no prayers left to pray

all little things, which make my mind
puts pieces back together, right?

so, take me far away,
where these bright skies could never fade away,
I'm not here to stay

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