you act like the winter will never come, like you can survivenbut this is an empty canvas and we should call in sick for a daynand pick up a paint brush, and pick up ambitionnbecause art is lost without ambition,ncarried away in frozen visionsnif you come to us like we know younthen we're all the same and empty toonwe'll find our own way out of herenand never look back with regretnwith just ourselves to answer, there is no questionncarried away in frozen visionsnwe'll find our own way outnwe'll find our own way out of here