A nameless figure at a peaknA state at which he cannot speaknStanding so far above it allnA man preparing for the fallnFloating along the urban sunnShining upon the only onenHis future hanging by a threadnRomantic thoughts within his headnnAnd he waitsnThough his friends arrivenNo answers are in townHe is youngnAnd it's hard for him to seenAnd he waitsnFor the feeling that he lost so long agonTo be loved, to be freennHis mother calling from belownTelling him never to let gonHe seems to stand there with such gracenA peaceful look upon his facenHe holds a letter in his handnHis friends will never understandnWithout a heart there's just a holenThat shows the darkness of his soulnnAnd he waitsnThough his friends arrivenNo answers are in townHe is youngnAnd it's hard for him to seenAnd he waitsnFor the feeling that he lost so long agonTo be loved, to be free