I've grown weary of this madness
weak from all this pain
should I turn from the truth I've seen
or revel in the rain

I've grown old from all this sadness
long before my time
they stole my youth and innocence
neutralized my prime

I've grown feeble in my anger
bitter in my grief
the truth is there for all to see
yet we turn in disbelief

The innocent are shunned upon
the guilty walk away
'I'm just a patsy' is our plea
since that bleak November day