..searching...

Somewhere in the midst of all my frantic fantasies I can almost feel someone reaching back towards me.
Sometime past midnight I hear the cries.
I'm searching for a hero.
He has to be sure.
He has to be strong.
Where have all the good guys gone?
Towards the fight.
I'm desperately holding onto something that isn't even there. That isn't even real.
I'm holding out for a hero.
Where'd all your fight go, my dear?
Lost somewhere surrounded by all those "forgot you's," and "maybe tomorrows"
I remember when men wanted to fix things. Or find out if there's something wrong.
I've run out of time to give.
We'll never find out if the metal was even bent or not.
Bueno suerte con tu vida.
Adios muchachos.