Tekstovi: Threshold. Critical Mass. Round And Round.

Can't rely on reality
Things ain't what they appear to be
When you visit please don't forget
The fragile mess of this nervous wreck

Who of you feels he's been here before?

Now I've been here twelve times or more
Life's becoming a bit of a bore
If the ceiling speaks please don't complain
He might just make me go back, round again

Who of you feels he's been here before?

Round and round and round again

The first million years
They were the worst
The second million years
They were the worst as well

Please don't ask 'cuz I can't explain
Why I keep coming back again
Maybe it's 'cuz when I roll the dice
I never get to throw "afterlife"

Who of you feels he's been here before?

Round and round and round