When you are inside the womb There 's nowhere then to go. When all this empty sense appears You 're standing there alone. Silent, dazed, A statue cracked to stones. You know you have to burn The memories of home. Home. Home. There are always routes to go. But you choose the lonely road. You have lost your inner faith. You forgot your only home. When you are inside four walls There 's nothing there to dream. You 're living in a nightmare, A puppet on a string. Silent, dazed, A statue cracked to stones. You know you have to burn The memories of home. Home. Home. There are always routes to go. But you choose the lonely road. You have lost your inner faith. You forgot your only home.