Washing the sheets of the ghosts in this madhouse

In the shadows of regret I walk.
Carrying the heavy load of my choices.
Echoes of decisions whisper in my mind...
Bathing me in yellow flowers with every step
like a bitter memory.

Disappointment as a constant specter.
Black wings that surround the heart...
Smothering the light with a veil of sadness.
Bath you in yellow flowers without time
for the desire to change that consumes me.

If I could go back in time and rewrite history...
Erase mistakes or heal wounds
or even exchange each tear for a new moment.
Bath him in yellow flowers.
Transforming pain into forgotten joy.

But the past is a prisoner of time.
Immutable, unalterable, cruel, despicable, opaque.
The present is a fight against regret...
Bathing us in yellow flowers
and the future is an empty promise of consolation.

My heart beats, heavy, heavy, heavy and slow.
Hoping for a new beginning.
But the shadow of disappointment is deep.
Bath yourselves in yellow flowers
and the desire for change sounds like a swallowed scream.

On gray days, I find myself lost...
Between what is and what could have been.
Searching in the ashes of my dreams...
Bath them in yellow flowers
and have the strength to deconstruct, construct, rebuild.

Still, the sadness persists...
A constant reminder of my failures
and the desperate desire to eliminate everything.
Bath myself in yellow flowers and accept
the ghost that never leaves me alone...