Nothings

There's a church somewhere, among those nowheres
Where fathers are baptized under the Father's gaze,
And footsteps dream of wings through ember days
Where freedom waits just by the door, and God's grace.
Yes, one of those nowheres,
You know all too well
For in those nowheres lies your soul
When it can't get anywhere.
And now we have a story to tell
To no one, of nothings,
These, which are not meant to be
Will live on, through the dead history.