Deep​ ​inside​ ​one’s​ ​heart​ ​a​ ​door​ ​exists
To​ ​the​ ​cradle​ ​of​ ​losses​ ​it​ ​always​ ​leads
There is​ ​a​ ​casket,​ ​covered​ ​in​ ​dust
With​ ​a​ ​fractured​ ​lock​ ​and​ ​ingrained​ ​rust
The​ ​hopeless​ ​ones​ ​are​ ​its​ ​creative​ ​tomb
Demons​ ​are​ ​the​ ​audience​ ​that​ ​fills​ ​this​ ​room
No​ ​fresh​ ​thoughts,​ ​only​ ​the​ ​smell​ ​of​ ​junk
A​ ​good​ ​place,​ ​where​ ​the​ ​dreams​ ​were​ ​sunk

The​ ​memories​ ​of​ ​the​ ​past​ ​aren’t​ ​stretched
The​ ​heart​ ​desires​ ​to​ ​write​ ​a​ ​new​ ​sketch
And​ ​it​ ​starts​ ​to​ ​detune​ ​a​ ​sick​ ​mind
So that​ ​the​ ​future​ ​becomes​ ​not​ ​desired

One​ ​memory​, ​all​ ​that’s​ ​left
A​ ​melody​ ​emits,​ ​but​ ​ears​ ​stay​ ​deaf
Does​ ​the​ ​casket​ ​leak,​ ​or​ ​does​ ​the​ ​soul?
Silence​ ​won’t​ ​be​ ​an​ ​answer​ ​at​ ​all
After​ ​the​ ​end​ ​we​ ​will​ ​remain​ ​a​ ​tune
That​ ​no​ ​one​ ​in​ ​the​ ​world​ ​will​ ​ever​ ​hear
That​ ​only​ ​the​ ​lonely​ ​wind​ ​will​ ​croon
And​ ​the​ ​old​ ​casket​ ​will​ ​hold​ ​our​ ​tears

The​ ​memories​ ​of​ ​the​ ​past​ ​aren’t​ ​stretched
The​ ​heart​ ​desires​ ​to​ ​write​ ​a​ ​new​ ​sketch
And​ ​it​ ​starts​ ​to​ ​detune​ ​a​ ​sick​ ​mind
So that​ ​the​ ​future​ ​becomes​ ​not​ ​desired