It's cold outside
And a silver cloud has blown over the morning skyline
There is no sound other than my heartbeat
And the snowflakes dance like fireflies.
In the distance, a billboard shines through the mist
And on it, I can read my name, and a short message:
"To live outside of time is to be free.
Have a nice life!"
Traffic is heavy,
And rain has fallen on the city.
To one side of me, I hear a voice.
It is a man without a face,
But he has a book written in a language I cannot understand.
Seventeen people enter the while building at the same time
And the clock has stopped at nine.
On the elevator wall is written:
"Only love can set you free.
This is your lucky day."
And so I say to myself:
Maybe this is what I've been waiting for.
Maybe this is the moment.
Maybe this
Is what it means to be free.
Time itself is frozen.
Somewhere, a telephone is ringing.
(Is that for me? Can that be for me?)
There is a voice there,
And it's one I've heard before.
It could have been a dream, or at least,
Another place, another time.
"Perhaps we can rendez-vous?
Put a name to a face, or a face to a name."
But already I know
What it is he has to say.
"Only by leaving can you truly arrive.
Have a nice life!"
And so I say to myself,
Maybe this is what I've been waiting for.
Maybe this is the moment.
Maybe this will be my lucky day.
It's cold outside
And a silver cloud has blown over the morning skyline.
There is no sound other than my heartbeat,
And the snowflakes dance like fireflies.