We express the same things but with different words
We acknowledge the same curve and those might-have-heareds

Just like the last line you draw to remind of past-time
A fast-winded feeling of freedom pleased to be recognized

And i can hear your doctors calling from here, saying:
Killed by his independecy and akilles-heel
Cuz he armed himself with stealthy mass-appeal.

Wheres my muse, wheres my muse
It feels like every word slipping through my mouth has been used

Staggering like the old man feeding the dirt
With my glass eye reflecting all the things that iv learned

A windowless frame in a transparent room
Flilling up cracks with plastic assumes

Shapeshift
A nuance
A venue

Chrous:
Dont stop dreaming cuz this aint over
Wreck of you life, aim til you get sober

Dont stop dreaming cuz this aint over
My friend

Letra por Nan Lopes [VSRT]