01:25. And I find myself letting out another sigh. 01:25. And I should sleep, yet I find myself filled with strife. 01:25. And those dark streets I brood, they are no friend of mine. 01:25. And the clock, cold and precise, unattached, tells the time. 01:25. And in me, the playground of ghosts, it comes alive. 01:25. And I feel the river, 's welling up inside. 01:25. And this burden, unbearable, weights on my mind. 01:25. And autumn's cold is all that I can find. 01:25. And at familiar crossroads, I must, yet again, decide. 01:25. And in the metaphor tonight, only irony can shine. 01:25. And sleep, it still betrays my sight. 01:25. And alone, I stand, in the enveloping dark. 01:25. And those scars are slowly setting in my bark. 01:25. And I set out on the well-beaten path. 01:25. And this sorrow, oh, I know by heart.