by Tim Spencer
This time he knows the way down,
‘Cause he’s been there before in free fall.
Like a gun shot that knocks to the ground,
Comes the realisation, the horror, the pain,
That the sunlight is stolen, the laughter lies slain,
He looks for an answer, but the question’s in vain ,
‘Cause the boy broke the heart of the man.
So this time, he knows where he falls,
Where the saying "time heals" was once a sweet lie,
In the gutter, where leaves of emotion decay,
Where the smell of the remnant of dreams wafts on by.
Just as the dream did when he could still reach it,
But didn’t dare reach it and didn’t dare try.
And this time he knows where he lies,
In the sewer where the stench of the past is still strong.
And the preoccupation is yesterday’s plan,
When the dreaming was right, but the fear was all wrong.
Now the legacy of fear, like a shadow still hangs,
‘Cause the boy broke the heart, broke the heart of the man.