Every day in the street there is a fuss,
All people hurry to some place.
When the sun begins to rise,
They all run, breaking all on their ways.
They look not at world, surrounding them,
But at the clock.
There is only their Within.
Which is always locked.
Chorus:
What if we break all the bolts,
We'll see a lot of sadness and joys,
We'll see new sides of the world,
We'll hear the things, we haven't heard.
Someone lives and think: ''Clock are useless'',
Someone has fun every day,
Someone has never taken scales,
He goes by Crowd's way.
