Carrousel

There's no time to cry
No time to look back and cherish old memories
Whatever hope you were expecting to reach is now gone
Torn down
Bleeding at your door

Focus your atention to the whining
On the dying
On the open wounded and the bleeding
Once like you
You know you are going the same way

You won't get out of this again
The blood stains in your hands don't lie
They can't lie
Images reflecting on them
Your eyes staring blank

We've lost all that was once pure
We've lost everything wich could rope us out
Down in the pit we can only wait
For us bodies to rot

What's the point in all this carrousel called life?
Is it living it without a solid purpouse?
Do we really expect something to give it a sense?
Does the word Lost even mean something to you?
It should

We're not going anywhere