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"It’s easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It’s so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone
Something has been taken
From deep inside of me
A secret I’ve kept locked away
No one can ever see
Wounds so deep they never show
They never go away
Like moving pictures in my head
For years and years they’ve played
If I could change I would Take back the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could take all the shame to the grave I would
Sometimes I remember The darkness of my past
Bringing back these memories I wish I didn’t have
Sometimes I think of letting go And never looking back
And never moving forward so There would never bee a past
Just washing it aside All of the helplessness inside
Pretending I don’t feel misplaced
Is so much simpler than change
It’s easier to run replacing this pain with something numb
It’s so much easier to go Than face all this pain here all alone"

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Alguém desiludido contava, em tom de desabafo, que pensava "ir embora".
Tornar-se ermita e viver da terra, era o projecto.
Fugir das chatices, das injustiças, dos desencantos.
Por mais que nos custe, os problemas acompanham-nos.
Por mais recôndido e inóspito que seja o destino, esses companheiros de viagem incansáveis não nos abandonam.
A nossa cabeça é o seu veículo de transporte. É também nela que habita a solução.