Maybe everything around me is a metaphor
As the old me is dying
Shots ring out ten thousand miles away
Chaos and confusion in my own heart
And in the capital

And the really scary thing
Is not how big it is
But how little it takes
To turn a world upside down

Maybe it is something I can't understand
How my pain can feel so large
While there are woman and children weeping
Pain and suffering in my own heart
And in the capital

Still the strangest thing to me
Is how I can be so selfish
When my own heart still is beating
But there are one hundred people dead
In the capital

And the really scary thing
Is not how great the pain is
But how little it takes
To cause it