Neon signs reflected on wet tarmac cars passing by with lights like eyes you look ...

... behind sensing you are followed
then right before you out of a gateway
a group of monks approaches you
all dressed in red bordered fox
they surround and block your way
they want to know what you think
they want to know how you feel
they want to know who you are
you don't have an answer
so what do you say
you are not sure what you think
you don't believe in what you feel
you've forgotten who you are
the monks not, they don't get angry
we keep track of the thoughts in your head
we even know about the hole in your heart
make no mistake
you're being controlled
and then they let you pass on
you run run fast, are you pursued
not that something is calling you
something is tangible like light in black water
like that shooting star you wished upon so long ago
and you wonder if you'll ever catch it
those cars driving past seem to be empty
but they know where to go
you're empty too but without destination
run anyway no matter where to
one thing is for sure
there is no turning back from Circle Eight
Michael Cretu - Enigma