Waltz of the Lost

Spinning

in a hall of shifting masks

(round and round) You trade your warmth for fleeting glass

Every partner is a temporary shade

But in this rush the real colors fade

Our endless waltz

is shattered on the floor

The mirror cracks,

the music plays no more

An old doll left

in an empty maze (so cold) With withered threads and a hollow

gaze Your grand illusions have turned to grey

You stand alone at the end of the day

(all alone)

This frantic dance of revolving doors

Leaves you searching cold,

forgotten floors

Looking down at dry and wrinkled hands

Lost inside your own devised demands

An old doll left in an empty maze

With withered threads and a hollow gaze Your grand illusions have turned

to grey

You stand alone at the end of the day