In time, melting shadows rearrange upon the wall,
Low light laughing at the simple madness of it all.
With seconds counting paradise, for always bound to fall,
Is the child crying softly at the madness of it all.
Plug my ears and tie me up but still the sirens’ call,
Brings me back with voices singing of the madness of it all.
I cannot shake the feeling that I have been here before,
How many times have I been knocking on the same red door?
Sometimes I’m on the ceiling and sometimes I’m on the floor,
Doesn’t matter when the only exit is the same red door.
He doesn’t care how much I ask or how much I implore,
The only answer I will find’s behind the same red door.
Am I a man or am I just a lonely speck of time,
Dancing for the winter’s pleasure, or for the summer’s rhyme?
If time could last forever I don’t think that we would find,
Any respite from the galaxies that write the summer’s rhyme.
Now the end is coming, the beginning very close behind,
And through it all, the only sound, the foolish summer’s rhyme.