I wonder sometimes, n sometimes I cry, for the people, for the past, and the time therby, I pray sometimes, though foolish it may seem, if i could go back to time and dream another dream...

And look at the lines on your hands,
look how deep they are,
the deeper the sorrows of your past,
the deeper these bloodless scars,
and longer the story goes,
the longer each line grows,
but one day the lines shall fade,
I pray that the day is close...