The storm is roaring across the country,
and is driving you along.
Towards some destination on the horizon,
It's hard for you to breathe.
The blood is rushing in your veins,
One step and no turning back.
The storm grants you no rest,
net amoil for a sideways glance.
The path to yourself never ends,< br/>behind you it goes downhill,
and in front of you it goes steeply uphill.
The path to yourself never ends,
behind you it goes downhill,
and steeply uphill in front of you.
The ambition burns in your eyes,
it hurts, you close it,
and you reluctantly stop,
>while standing still is often a good idea.
Dark will-o'-the-wisp from the distance,
covers you briefly in bright white,
and it leaves you feeling like you've been slaughtered,
again back into the vicious circle.
The path to yourself never ends,
behind you it goes downhill,
and in front of you it goes steeply uphill.
The The path to yourself never ends,
behind you it goes downhill,
and in front of you it goes steeply uphill.
And then it happens, it doesn't go any further,
/>You stop and look around,
and suddenly you feel for the first time,
such a kind of peace all around.
But a whiplash of everyday life,
keeps you going somewhere,
You think you're already out of it,
well, you're in the middle of it.
The path to yourself never ends,
behind you it goes downhill,
and in front of you it goes steeply uphill.
The path to yourself never ends,
behind you it goes downhill,
and in front of you steeply uphill.
The path to yourself never ends,
behind you it goes downhill,
and in front of you steeply uphill.
The path to yourself never ends,
behind you it goes downhill,
and in front of you it goes steeply uphill.

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