Well they wait as they begnAt the fountain-sidenWhere their coins and their dreamsnAnd their wishes and schemes come to diennWith a vengeful grin the mendicantnRegrets his mistakes on the day nWhen the fountain runs drynnHe's staring at the skynAnd the absence of light nTurns these grey days darknnFace away west to the sunnTo the falling nights' coldn(It's time to get my story straight)nAnd we sink or we swim nOr we separate everything leftn(It's time to get my story straight)nnWell they stand, and they waitnAt the river's edgenWhere the wind stings your facenAnd will chase away nAll of your warmth nnDrag out: turn innThe mendicant sleepsnAnd he dreamsnOf horizon-less seas nnImplore the sears to tell nThe stories of their inflictions nUnder staring starsnn(And I'm screaming at the wall nLike it should fall apart nRight in front of me) nn(And I'm staring at the sky nAnd the absence of lightnPaints these grey days dark)