The sun was setting orange in the sky that day
When he pulled on my arm and told me to run
I followed without a second thought
But what were we running from?

I remember the paint melting off the wall
And the flames licking it like a tongue
And when she told me to go, I never asked,
“But what am I running from?’

If only dead fish go with the flow
I must have died long ago
And when they’re gone, I’ll have to ask myself:
Now who am I going to follow?

I don’t believe in tomorrow
And maybe yesterday was a dream
My voice always seems to get lost in the silence
No matter how loud I scream.
I try to run from myself
But you cannot disown your past
And every night I stop and wonder
How long will these nightmares last?

Maybe when I’m dead
They’ll forget who I am
Just a handful of dust,
A handful of sand.
A ceramic jar on the fireplace
A gravestone at the back of the lot
A tired old photograph
An empty body left to rot.

I don’t believe in tomorrow
And maybe yesterday was a dream
My voice always seems to get lost in the silence
No matter how loud I scream.
I try to run from myself
But you cannot disown your past
And every night I stop and wonder
How long will these nightmares last?