The Story Of 'The Die Is Cast'

Neon signs reflected on wet tarmac
Cars passing by with lights like eyes
You look behind sensing you're followed.

Then right before you, out of a gateway
A group of monks approaches you
All dressed in red bordered frocks
They surround and block your way.

They want to know what you think
They want to know how you feel
They want to know who you are
You don't have an answer.

So what you say?
You are not sure what you think
You don't believe in what you feel
You've forgotten who you are.

The monks nod, they don't get angry
«We keep track of the thoughts in your head
We even know 'bout the hole in your heart
Make no mistake
You're being controlled.

And then they let you pass on
You run, run fast
Are you pursued?
Not that.

Something is calling you
Something intangible
Like light on black water
Like that shooting star you wished upon so long ago
And you wonder if you'll ever catch it.

Those cars driving past seem to be empty
But they know where to go
You're empty, too, but without destination
Run any way
No matter where to.

One thing's for sure
There's no turning back from Circle Eight.