Playing On...

Hide the heart in a secret place
Spirit locked behind our public face
(Lost, lost) in our forgotten years
Imprisoned by our mental peers
Playing on, into the Ethersphere
Playing on, and nothing interferes
And in our own sweet time
In our own darkened homes
We’ll sneak a listen
To the music that died alone
Played across such jambled staves
Stay through dictated waves
The bar lines slash like red-tape
Across the manuscript of life
All its melodies are trapped in templates
And designer culture’s knives
Playing on, into the Ethersphere
Playing on, even if no one hears
And in our own sweet time
In our own darkened homes
We’ll sneak a listen
To the music that died alone
Music that died alone
We hide such high ambition
Behind the vestiges of smiles
Deny such thoughts' existence
With cheap «one liners» for a while
Feeding to the critics
All the things that might have been
Who turn ambition to pretension
To outmoded and obscene
Sell our dreams
To the mainstream’s sway
Mould our lives
To a typecast for today
We pay people to destroy us
In the media every day
So we’ll all know our place and keep it
And never want to move away…
Playing on, into the Ethersphere
Playing on, even if no one hears
And in our deepest hearts
In our own darkened homes
We’ll sneak a listen
To the music that died alone