I call out into the echo, I hear nothing back.

I have been walking an endless journey, cuts and bruises all over my body, my knees giving away.
But I can't stop.

I don't know where I'm going
But I know I'll be alone
Alone with my collection of broken promises
I call out for you, but you don't even turn
And what can I do than to run?

Run through these treacherous paths
I've always been the desperate one
And hence I've always been the one hurt
I've never known when to stop

And so I walk, and walk, and walk

(The journey of life is lonely - my dad told me - and I've felt it since)