There had to be another door and if there wasn’t, I was definitely planning to build one.
Yes, maybe I was just dreaming
With open eyes probably. My eyes were gleaming.
Through a rugged surface I was trying to look at heaven
With just one vision in my eyes, I was aspiring twenty-four seven.
I was looking through a broken glass window
Waiting for another door to open, trying to build my own window.
I didn’t know my house was shattered and I could only get some pieces
To build my little window, I had a few broken glass pieces.
I didn’t mind that too at the start, my path was already tough.
I knew my hands would cut and pain in the indented pieces rough.
I washed my hands in the rains that came through the broken windows
Or maybe the pain got washed as I was saving myself from the storm through those windows.
And they smashed all the more, making the rough going further hard
But I promised myself to be strong while everything was hard.
It was a pain to look at my dream with open eyes and jagged windows
Yet I stared at heaven, for someday from there, I would be looking at my windows.