Peripeteia

Broken hearts made of stone, did we lose our sensitivity?

You can find them all alone, watching flaming things go by

You're trying to catch the break of dawn, blame it on your curiosity

So, eternally your inner demons come back and out into the sun

And we have a lot of love to give

But it's not with each to all the misery

I dream of a past that we could have

Feel like we made up so entirely

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You stick around, you got it bad but no one's out there you can listen to

It seems to be so hard to find the colorful state of mind

Until you're trying to catch it all - blame it on your own philosophy

Eventually your inner demons come back and out into the sun