A big production- as someone I'm not.
Pressure, pressure, building up..
When's this mad house going to blow?
I'm running away, but running low.
What will happen when I'm caught in the wreckage
Of an incinerated dream?
This place- a place away from here-
Where nothing's as it seems.
So spin me around and let me go free.
And take this blindfold off of me.
Let me wander; stumble through..
And find my way back home to you.
Tear me down and punish me,
Slap me 'til you make me see.
Scream and scream, because I need your voice-
Tell me I'm left without a choice.
Take me home to contemplate,
And bring me to the light again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem