Poets Of The Fall Where Do We Draw The Line

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On your palm an endless wonder
Lines that speak the truth without a sound
In your eyes awaits the tireless hunger
Already looks for prey to run down

So why do we keep up this charade
And how do we tell apart the time to leave from the time to wait?

What does tomorrow want from me?
What does it matter what I see?
If it can't be my design,
Tell me where do we draw the line,
Tell me where do we draw the line?

The dance of flames and shadows in the street
Make poetry nobody's ever heard
The weight of loneliness stands on your feet
The cage already there around the bird

So why don't we join the masquerade
Before it all falls apart, before our love becomes insatiate?

What does tomorrow want from me?
What does it matter what I see?
If I can't choose my own design,
Tell me where do we draw the line?

What does tomorrow want from me?
What does it matter what I see?
If we all walk behind the blind,
Tell me where do we draw the line,
Tell me where do we draw the line?

Where's the cooling wind?
Where's the evergreen field?
Where's my mother's open arms?
Where's my father lion heart?
It's like the sun's gone down
Sleeps in the hallowed ground now
With the autumn's brown leaves
With the one who never grieves

So why do we keep up this charade
And how do we tell apart the time to leave from the time to wait?

What does tomorrow want from me?
What does it matter what I see?
If it can't be my design,
Tell me where do we draw the line?

Whatever tomorrow wants from me,
At least I'm here, at least I'm free.
Free to choose to see the signs.
This is my line.