Текст песни Dr. Manhattan - Too Late

While I am standing still, I prefer the stillness here. I am tired of earth, these people, I'm tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.

They claim their labours are to build a heaven yet their heaven is populated with horrors. Perhaps the world is not made. Perhaps nothing is made. A clock without a craftsman. It's too late. Always has been, always will be…too late.