What becomes of me when even I can’t take my disregard

To life’s demanding rules, those who keep the weak minded behind bars?

When did I forget the things my father said and what I was taught?

Will I need regret to haunt my inexistence so I can see for once?

Throw my ashes down in the gutter

If they don’t sort it out call it murder

What if I grow old with nothing left but my youth’s deeds and dreams?

My faith was always there, even not knowing what to believe

Now the time has turned, I search for something real, I need my essence back

Blowing with the wind, I know I’ll find the answer when I know which way is home

Throw my ashes down in the gutter

If they don’t sort it out call it murder

Throw my ashes down in the gutter

If they don’t sort it out call it murder

Wisdom won’t change where the sun sets

It will only teach how to walk in the dark