Letras
Spring is near and flowers bloom,
You stay stuck in winter's gloom,
Others grow their roots so deep,
You are tossed like dust in sleep.
It's time to rise, to play again,
To fight, not fold, to stand through pain.
It's time to face the turning wheel,
That spins against what you once feel.
Why no dreams of future skies,
While others chase the biggest prize?
You seek the dark, avoid the day,
Accepting all that fades away.
It's time to rise, to play again,
To fight, not fold, to stand through pain,
It's time to face the turning wheel,
That spins against what you once feel.
In games designed behind closed doors,
They cast you down, define your chores,
Behind the stage, out of the frame,
You hide your light to dodge the flame.
It's time to rise, to play again,
To fight, not fold, to stand through pain,
It's time to face the turning wheel,
That spins against what you once feel.
It's time to rise, to play again,
And spin the wheel that turned in vain.