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

Wisdom won't change where the sun sets
It will only teach how to walk in the dark