The bell and the hammer

I try to remember what it's like to dream with my own eyes (with my own eyes).
Because I keep forgetting what is right can't tell truth from lies
(sunset from rise)...
If I could learn to act patiently then I would see that my view of time is selfishly based around me...
I should run away, but I
can't chasing dreams that are slowing down for me.
I should turn around, but I can't. It's within my reach runaway...
With rising valleys and sinking
peaks, nothing in between (that I can see).
It seems my pride is on repeat oh how they need me (it's not me they need).