Past the gates Your soul creates Lies a path That radiates In a world of sterile crowds We are part of the system Closed from wisdom Buried words, running deep Stinging into a question Suggestion In my days I've not heard A stronger sound And I believe In silence lies The power to hear Not in fear Not being austere Through the halls A whisper calls In a world of broken glass We are hovering over A four-leaf clover But no one knows when to end And for how long until it's over In my days I've not heard A stronger sound And I believe In silence lies The power to hear Not in fear Not being austere