What becomes of me when even I can’t take my disregard
To life’s demanding rules, those who keep the weak minded behind bars?
When did I forget the things my father said and what I was taught?
Will I need regret to haunt my inexistence so I can see for once?

Throw my ashes down in the gutter
If they don’t sort it out call it murder

What if I grow old with nothing left but my youth’s deeds and dreams?
My faith was always there, even not knowing what to believe.
Now the time has turned, I search for something real, I need my essence back
Blowing with the wind, I know I’ll find the answer when I know which way is home

Throw my ashes down in the gutter
If they don’t sort it out call it murder
Wisdom won’t change where the sun sets
It will only teach how to walk in the dark