I am masked,

Shrouded by the front line of the chorus.

Voice tatterred, shrouded, unheard.

Any vocation would be too absurd.

Undeniable uncerainty of where I am going.

Which road do I take,

is it even worth knowing?

Why do I even think about asking?

Time might just be too complex for me,

but to put it simlpy,

every moment past, is gone,

and at what cost?

If I just spoke up, what could have been lost?

Nothing. Being silent in urgency is just plainly meek.

I am nothing more then a man who is masked,

too dubious to speak.