A loss of words is what the wind whispers.
A loss of smiles is what the sun has.
A loss of moves is what the palm tree realizes.
Oh, how much they wish they had what they lost.

A person has a loss of many things.
They lose their childhood.
They lose their independence.
They lose their humanity.
Oh, how much a person wishes they had what they've lost.

The sun hides behind dark grey clouds.
The dark grey clouds hide behind the rain.
The rain hides behind thunder and lightning.
It's all a cycle of hiding behind each other,
But where do we hide when there is no more to hide?

Every place to hide is a place of dark terrors that awaits us.
A place so dark that one can not call it 'rock bottom',
For there is more to it.
There is no place where we land.
Our loss is an endless abyss that dark terrors wait for us in.
The only way to get out of this abyss is when we are thrown a lifeline.

Sometimes too late is this life line thrown.
Sometimes too late are we finally noticed.
Sometimes too late help has arrived.
Sometimes too late is what has us dead.
We've succumbed to the terrors and left them full out soul.
We've let them drive us to insanity.

A loss of words is what the wind whispers.
A loss of smiles is what the sun has.
A loss of moves is what the palm tree realizes.
Oh, how much they wish they had what they lost.