Poco a poco...

We, the people, fight for our existence.
We don't claim to be perfect.
But we're free.
We dream our dreams alone.
With no resistance.
Fading like the stars we wish to be.

You know I didn't mean.
What I just said.
But my God woke up,
on the wrong side of his bed,
and it just don't matter now.

Cos little by little,
we gave you everything,
you ever dreamed of.
Little by little,
the wheels of your life,
have slowly fallen off.
Little by little,
you have to give it all in all your life,
and all the time.
I just ask myself why,
you're really here.

True perfection has to be imperfect.
I know that that sounds foolish but it's true.
The day has come,
and now you'll have to accept,
the life inside your head we give to you.