---

In a dark and lonely corner

of a time-worn dockside inn

sits the local barstool warrior,

talking to his gin.

Tracing past decisions

he motions for a shot.

Is he doomed to be a man

this world forgot?

Just a prisoner of

the monster on his back.

Call it bad luck, call it fate,

call it stuck here the rest of my days.

Serves me right, what went wrong,

and where do I belong?

In the glow of flashing lights

on the shoulder of the road,

clutching at the bruises on her skin.

She tries to signal danger

with anguish in her eyes.

Will he see the world of pain

she's in, or is it too late?

Was it bad luck, was it fate,

or a past that she couldn't escape?

It's not right, something's wrong,

just where do I belong?

Promises made, crying in vain,

all empty, never accepting the blame,

and not letting go of the shame.

A river of tears as months turn to years,

all wasted on someone not willing to change.

Now only a shadow remains!

No one can save you,

and there's no one to save.

It has been written you will become all

you think, all you feel, all you dream

Now I'm cutting the anchor

away and I won't look back,

I'm starting a new life today.

Now I see where I belong!