The crying, the screaming,
The pain without meaning
So complacently patient
So sick'nenly silent

A thousand deaths
Can't wash away
The torturous wounds
You've bestowed to me

The hate and the lying,
The constant crying
Unobservedly nuicent
'Cause you've found your place yet

You cannot see
Scars, you gave to me
The death of a saint
To the sinners grace

All I have left
Is your second best