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Hope reigns in a drowning song tonight,
gives way to the possibility that no childhood thoughts were true.
No bodily pain so cold as the knowledge of ones own faults.
Seeing you is a mirror to myself.
The night is black and the TV's blue.
Torment the hand that writes these words.
Will tomorrow a new voice be heard?
Maybe this existence is a dream.
Or maybe this dream is existence.
How could this be?
The night and the stars speak for themselves.
The light at the end of the tunnel is strong.
I can see your face as it guides the way.
Reach out the hand that holds me near.
When you speak, its truth I hear.
When the music fades and the romance decays
and the buildings have fallen down, you'll find me...
and the hope you seek cannot be found, you'll find me.
