• The days are getting longer, but our lives are getting shorter; we're spending all the money locked inside the metal vaults.

    The grains of sand are slipping, but the memories are staying; we couldn't erase some of them even if we tried.

    The world is getting harder to comprehend, and some fear that our days are coming to an end; hope might not even decide to spare us.

    Everything is changing, our lives are rearranging; and we fear that we'll get left behind.

    The dark is on our side, the Earth seems so wide; can we ever find our way out?

    Our regrets are growing, and our spirits are not showing; maybe if we listened we could hear what is inside.

    If you loved me could you tell me, there is no star for me?