The cold touch of wanting to be held
Reaction making me pull away when all I want is to be close
I touched the table and held it in my hand! Why?
So lonely with no trust, wishing the cold wood of that table could take me there
Dreams never satisfy, they make it worse
Now reality is closer, the smoke has gone
I'm giving up on fate as I see the world changing
Opportunity's slipping away as we all grow distant, and times catching up on me
I always thought that... Well maybe.. I still think that life has plans for me...
