A game in it's conception does not make sense

Yet, we are still driven to find our commends;

Forgetting all about our past,

Letting go and running past

_All this struggle – can this be a trouble?_

Run away from what is real,

Find youself in fancy tril

Of fantasy birds, singing all above

What's the point of living fear,

Can escape it, find the clear sky above

For all it's worth…

Just let it, stay in a place of

Imagined sweets and dragons flying high

To try and, let go for a chance

Of better life – it such a pretty lie

Just stay – fogetting all about it

Just stay – Ignore the problems in your words

_It can't be a really big trouble_

_If fake life is better, what is the point of it all?_