Oh my days are dark again
And they're drawing to a certain close
I am a moth to a candle flame
And my Icarus wings are working loose
There are no angels to watch and pray
And there are no stars to wish upon
Who is gonna carry my soul away?
Who's gonna miss me when I'm gone?
Who is gonna miss me
When I'm gone?
Oh it's easy to try
It's easy to say
Nobody loves me, anyway
So where's my joy now?
Where's my instinct to survive?
I don't know how I am ever getting out of this alive,
I am ever getting out of this alive
I am never getting out of this alive
(Moths are attracted by the light.
When the moth touches the candle flame,
It dies)
Well I looked death in the eye,
And I don't remember what I said.
Asked was I going along for the ride
I think I replied: "I am already dead"
Well I took a look at it nice and slow,
And I wonder what I made of it
Was it really my time to go?
Was I really afraid of it?
Was I really afraid of it?
I guess it's easy to try
It's easy to say
Nobody loves me, anyway
So where's my joy now?
Where's my instinct to survive?
I don't know how I am ever getting out of this alive
I am ever getting out of this alive
I am never getting out of this alive
(You're looking for something entirely different.
More like a candle flame
Focus.)