We live on a lake, and sometimes there are waves; I guess that explains why we've been led astray. Because if the west is what we need, you can bet we'll
be heading east. We're so easily distracted by the slightest breeze. When there's too many roads, and far too many shows; all these empty highs become too
many lows. We walk through crowded streets to be by ourselves; screaming for help... I won't wait to hear them say, "You were wrong all along." We've been
drowning, and we've been doubting; I think it's time for a change... We're building a home, but it's not made of stone; a place where we can go to find a
lasting hope. With our anxious pace, life's like an endless chase; where we don't know who's after us, but we run anyways... We almost left without saying
goodbye.


Plinio M.