I always heard the stories but I never quite believed them

some hidden town where time had stood still

The darkness never seems to leave I guess Ill need a ladder

to Get out of this well that im in

Its been 6:15 for all these years

since winter of 74

If I ever get the chance to leave

i’m not sure If I could

When I die I beg they take my bones and throw them out to sea

I hope my ghost wont find its way back here

It was all the talk of loneliness that Forced me to remember

some place that I used to call home

People never look you in the eye as they go walking by

trying to escape the unknown

Its been 6:15 for all these years

since winter of 74

If I ever get the chance to leave

i’m not sure If I could

When I die I beg they take my bones and throw them out to sea

I hope my ghost wont find its way back here

Dont believe the stories that you hear along the grape vine

The Truth is illusive it seems

No one ever tells you that life never moves in straight lines

And you’ll only be leaving in dreams