| He knows no shameand takes no blamethis simpletonsees everything. | |
| He's only satisfiedto point out other's mistakesnever afraidto use his pride. | |
| His tradition is old;his faith a hand-me-down. | |
| The family,he wears them on his sleeve. | |
| Morale and value leftunder a christmas tree. | |
| He once had the gift, this image in his grandparents eyes. | |
| No guns, no drugs, no rape, no end. | |
| This vacant soul is paleand blue. | |
| In empty gaze...his crow's feet area vision of defeat. | |
| Sick and tired of the meaninglessness. | |
| The irrationale... | |
| He's desensitized his every needand emotion. | |
| A cup half empty, but fullof euphoria. | |
| He's searching for the light switch in the dark to switch his routine. | |
| To find a reason... | |
| To find faith in peace of mind. | |
| When one too many beliefs die,it's tough to see through these black eyes. | |
| Everyone forgives, everyone forgets. | |
| Everyone is true, and no one here will lie to you. | |
| He knowsthe truth. | |
| He knows the truth: | |
| Here nothing's certain,disregard what you've learned...to find faithin peace of mind. | |
| All of thier gods died with his peace. | |
| I should know him,that heathen's me. |
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