Snow

posted 16 April 2002


Now it seems so long ago
The time when you were happy
You can't remember being free
You only know your worries

I know you've got that silent feeling
The person in your soul is screaming
You feel trapped by your every day
You want to make it go away

The world goes past you every second
The fingers of the future beckon
You see a million little faults
You want to help to cure them all

But they spin past you every time
You get just one and let past nine
And soon a snow of problems
Has become a freezing wall

A spinning cell of dirty ice
A touch can cut you like a knife
The walls are getting thicker
And you know there's no way out

I know you've got that silent feeling
The person in your soul is screaming
You feel trapped by your every day
You want to make it go away

The wall is crushing, closing in
Your lack of action seems a sin
But even your best effort
Does not seem to make a difference

A world so full of injustice
Is not the world you grew up in
The time when you were happy
Did that time really exist?

You hurl your rightness at the wall
It's not enough to stop the fall
The snow of pain and misery
Still falling throughout history

I know you've got that silent feeling
The person in your soul is screaming
You feel trapped by your every day
You want to make it go away

I know you've got that silent feeling
The person in your soul is screaming
The walls are closing fast I know
But you should know you're not alone

A billion of you stand your ground
The walls keep spinning all around
The problems don't stop raining down
But mabe you can hold them back

The cell is never getting larger
And you struggle ever harder
Knowing you must never tire
Someday we will start a fire.



Do you ever get that mute, trapped feeling? The world is going past you and every second there's a tiny little thing you could fix, a tiny little comment you know is wrong, an insignificant habit you know you could correct, but don't? The opportunities fly past you, a hundred every second, and you can't grab them all so you don't grab any, until there's a wall of them spinning constantly round you, trapping you with a hundred thousand things you haven't done. The frustration pounds you just as well as if were a wall of spinning concrete. You want to say the things to correct the problems, but there are too many. You want to right the wrongs of your universe, but every correction is just a tiny hole in a solid wall. You feel like a termite on a totem pole, and you want to scream but the need to explain your scream would just be another piece of that huge, solid wall. So you sit there, mute and angry, and no one even know there's a problem.

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