Falling Pictures

Finding the middle between hush and shout
Is it a task you have to do yourself, there’s no clues hidden in your pocket
Facing your limits is a never-ending job
And “you cannot run away from a weakness: Fight it out or perish

We’re fighting the good fight
But never asking if it’s right
‘Till bullets start to rebound

Straining to fit in: Should we give a shot?
Does a man have the right to quit from himself as a polite way of hiding?
We are all myopic except when we look inside ourselves
Only in dreams do we truly see
Where should we look now?
What’s life all about?

It's a painting so abstract
Which we can’t get that in fact
The picture is upside down

Can a man keep his journey when he is unlearning
How to walk back on the ground?
When the pictures are falling apart from his memory wall?
What should come out from a man’s mouth
When his meaning is no more gleaming gold but doubt?

Sometimes life can’t be trusted
But looking inside can be just
As dangerous as going out

Can a man keep his journey when he is unlearning
How to walk back on the ground?
When the pictures are falling apart from his memory wall?
What should come out from a man’s mouth
When his meaning is no more gleaming gold but doubt?