Retrospect — Theatre Of Tragedy

Here we are We stand in line One more time today There is no sense The cigarette in hand It's all gone bad No name, privilege, no hope and fame

We've seen it all before And it seems like a mirror of our future

We were waiting for something We were listening to the heartbeats It could take us It could take our names; it's the same as no hope and fame

We've seen it all before And it seems like a mirror of our future

This is no age for us It seems we're out of class We are fragile Like statues made of sand

We've seen it all before And it seems like a mirror of our future