Dripping tap. Endless night. Cold sweat. Neon signs reflected on the wall. Whispers ...

... in the dark.
You're all alone. You're not alone.
A thief of thoughts watches you.
Is this still home?
The mirror's broken. The window's blind.
This feels like prison. Those hidden voices keep on whispering: You got to change.
Your old you's dying. Go find a new one!
You're still afraid. You wear the life you live like a strait-jacket. It's irksome, but you're used to it. But now this inner unrest grows and grows. You're asking questions that have no answer.
As you look back into the past, it seems like a big wave out there in the ocean of time coming closer to the sound of a song and the rhythm of the dripping tap.
Or is it your heartbeat?
You realize something has happened, but you don't know what it is.
All you know is you don't belong here anymore.
From a certain point onward, there's no turning back.
That point has been reached.
You've got to get out of here.
Out on the street.
Got to break free.
Escape.
Search.
Find.
Michael Cretu - Enigma