When You're Gone

Did I wait too long? Moments gone—they're now wasted.
Coming back to home—it feels wrong: changes haunt me.
And the pain before leave me lost, confused, searching.
Everything I own takes me back nowhere.

Objects in my room—they might be telling me something soon.
Still you ask me how I feel. I feel lost—that's how I feel.

I know there's something I've forgotten—like a time, a place, a shattered memory.
For me, it's more than I can seem to handle: It's the pain my mind is writing on the wall.
The truth, you lie—you said it can't convince you to give up.
This place will never set me free. Enough, I know. I really did it this time.
It's a sign: This place is somewhere I should be.

Taking a piece of my heart when you're gone.

Are my eyes too blind to find illusions find deep inside?—Probing.
What I'd lost to find and what I find brings me here

Taking a piece of my heart—that's how it always starts—when you're gone.