Years gone,
yet frozen in time
Seeking for things done
That which is mine
Trying to forget the root
Which is my present crime
holding my glassy flute
I enter the shrine

I am a player who has paid the price
I have seen the danger and wanted out
But the game is not over, I must roll the dice
So surrounded by strangers I go all-out

I am unable to speak,
I am losing my gait
Though I just woke up,
it feels so late
I don’t know where I am
Nor do I know the date
I am choking
And cannot stay awake

I am a player who has paid the price
I know my cards; I know my hand; I want out
But the game is not over, I must roll the dice
So surrounded by strangers I go all-out

The game is over, the house always wins

I feel the cold morning breeze
And I hear the city
I see people on their knees
Looking with pity

They want to know if I am still in pain
But I am a player who is paying the price
They have brought me back to life again
Knowing that I will keep rolling the dice

…So, is this all in vain?