Sunset over the high-rise, By a motorway, A little man looks up at the sky. An uneventful end to a wasted day. Close-up on the man at the window, Looking at the street down below. Its obvious hes got things on his mind. He shakes his head, pulls down the blind. He starts writing a letter, To make it perfectly clear. Hes just a man whos reached the end of his rope, Expressing his doubts and his fears. In a world, feels so lonely and afraid, Disillusioned by the promises they made, Its a pity that it ended up this way, Life is just a clich. Im gonna do tomorrow What I did yesterday. Its such a dull routine, Somebody cut this scene, Its such a boring clich. Live life, day to day, Seems so pass. Everything you hear and say, Just another clich. Like an actor on a movie screen, Living out someone elses dream. Living out a total misconception, Reality, a false perception. Its such a wasted life, Without any conclusion. Days drift into days, His life just slips away. People so blas, Everythings a clich. Yes it is. Yes it is. Just an illusion. Just an illusion. Moonlight over the high-rise, At the end of the day. The little man is asleep in his bed, Tucked up, safely away. In his dreams hes taken away by alien beings to another Galaxy, deep in space. to a planet where a man can live Out his fantasies, and experience unimaginable pleasures. But morning comes and soon the realities of life will Shatter his illusions, and the clichs of the world will Bring him down. but still hes waiting for a change. Days drift into days, His life just slips away. Everything is pass, Everythings a clich. Yes it is. Yes it is. Just an illusion. Just an illusion. Yes it is. Yes it is. See the sunlight over the motorway, The little man, with anger in his eyes, Stands by the window, looks at the sky.