Time is past midnight, and I’m left with three paths to go.
Who the hell will tell where should I step, why should I roam?
Risen hands’ fallen, deepest root rises.
Toss a lucky coin, to hell with the advises...
The first path for me - to stay and wait still now,
Be stone cold and patient, feel the peace, feel now.
Only wind who blows hard knows what power it takes
To not fell of the rails hoping for the best of fates!
Second choice I have - shake off dust, be stronger.
Say "I’m sorry folks, but just can’t stay longer".
And go fly rushing through the winter unknown,
And how the freeze’s killing only beasts and we know...
And about the third I won’t share a word here.
Everyone has their own path to move on here...
And how that’s simple only wired phone lines could tell.
This third path will be opened everyone for help...