Tour Diary (in America)

That look in your eyes<br/> Says that there's nothing left there at all<br/> That sweet paradise<br/> Now locked beyond doors<br/> <br/> I'm losing control<br/> Stare at the bottom of oblivion<br/> I send greeting cards<br/> Farewell to you all<br/> (Time to move on)<br/> <br/> Folded map in my pocket<br/> Good smoke for the road<br/> They call him the man who walks alone<br/> I write what I see<br/> I cease to succeed<br/> To play my role in this board game<br/> The quest to the unknown again<br/> Kingdom of lies blinded by the false light of divinity<br/> <br/> Sleeping so the head can escape the heart<br/> Hiding like a rat in a sewer pipe<br/> And with my last breath I hope I'll find my way back home<br/> To find my way back<br/> <br/> Subtle wind dance over no man's land<br/> Whistling a quiet melody<br/> Vultures cry in pleasure, solemn wish<br/> To be the poor man's king<br/> I write what I see, inhaling it deep<br/> I'm holding all back for this tour diary<br/> And now I know, there's nothing there for me<br/> Now I know, there is nothing there

Submitted by Iron_Wraith — May 10, 2026