The Man Without A Name
I Walk The Line
I watch the clock
and see my time go down the drain.
I'm just waiting for the weekend
to numb the brain.
I am a man without a face,
without a name.
I keep occupied,
so I don't have time to feel.
I stand in line, 'til the end of time.
I feel so much safer with my hands tied,
I can't make it on my own.
There's bars on my window,
but I don't mind the pain.
I did what I was told,
still I'm free like a slave.
I settle for the chains
and the foodplate on the table.
Still there's moments in the dark,
"is this really what I asked for?"
I stand in line, 'til the end of time.
I feel so much safer with my hands tied,
I can't make it on my own.
The train of mystery, it's calling me.
The train of mystery knows what I long for.
It takes me to my place somewhere
Destination's unknown.
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