the face in the mirror is not my face;
unknown eyes from an unknown person;
this ambiguity has me cursin'.

the face in the mirror is not my face;
unknown lips that haven't truly spoke;
this uncertainty has me broke.

this face in the mirror is not my face;
unknown nose that knows a sensory;
but can't connect me to his memory.

do not fret as i go into battle;
for i am used to the scars of war.
do not fret as i go into battle;
for it is not a bore.
do not fret as i go into battle;
for i am used to my foes.
do not fret as i go into battle;
for i am used to my woes.
do not fret as i go into battle;
for most of it is in my head.
do not fret as i go into battle;
for the enemy is also in my bed.

i lost myself along the way;
so much so it puts me to shame;
because of you i'm off my game;
because of you i'm feeling lame.
a shell of someone i used to be;
but no one seems to see;
this side of me that's wee.

i lost myself along the way...
more often do i cry;
because of you i'm wry;
because of you i'm awry.
a shell of someone i used to be;
but no one seems to see...
but no one seems to see...

The enemy is near;
and is always here.
Faces are all the same;
and is never any tame.
Vicious and Virtuous they play;
and ending the day away.

death took him;
as swift as the bird catches its prey.
no one had time to pray.
it gave no hint;
as it fell on him swift;
and took his soul away.

sometimes i cry in the middle of the night.
sometimes i cry because of my fright.
feelings are kept under lock and key;
sometimes they feel the need to be free.
so sometimes at night it is their way;
to show me the darkness for which they play.
sometimes the fear will consume;
and the next day it will resume.
sometimes i wish it would stop;
but it never stops spinning like a top.
sometimes i cry in the middle of the night...

skin crawls from your touch;
flinches and peels.
scrub the memory off.
mind and body reels;
it is much too much.
memory won't leave;
my life it will weave.