The Begining of Lost
The man standing like a rock
Being the old clock
Time is passing slowly
It won't be easy
The bed seems to be alive
But that is just a lost dream that will arrive
my mind so deep like the hall in my glace
Maybe I found another resting place
The echoes of the he's sad resonate on is heart
Peaceful and quiet when he will sleep
For ever he will find the joy he never meets
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