IRC-Galleria

Poets of the Fall - Where do we draw the line?

On your palm an endless wonder
Lines that speak the truth without a sound
In your eyes awaits the tireless hunger
Already looks for prey to run down

So why do we keep up this charade?
How do we tell apart the time to leave, from the time to wait?

What does tomorrow want from me?
What does it matter what I see?
If it can't be my design.
Tell me where do we draw the line.

The dance of flames and shadows in the street,
make poetry nobody's ever heard.
The weight of loneliness stands on your feet.
The cage already there around the bird.

So why don't we join the masquerade?
Before it falls apart, before our love becomes insatiate.

What does tomorrow want from me?
What does it matter what I see?
If it can't choose my own design.
Tell me where do we draw the line.

What does tomorrow want from me?
What does it matter what I see?
If we all walk behind the blind.
Tell me where do we draw the line.

Where's the cooling wind? Where's the evergreen field?
Where's my mother's open arms? Where's my father lionheart?
S' like the sun's gone down, sleeps in the hallowed ground now.
With the autumn's browns leaves, with the one who never grieves.

So why do we keep up this charade?
How do we tell apart the time to leave from the time to wait?

What does tomorrow want from me?
What does it matter what I see?
If it can't be my design.
Tell me where do we draw the line.

What ever tomorrow wants from me
At least I'm here, at least I'm free
Free to choose, to see the sign