They don't realize -
None of them do
Relapse
Of a different kind
Into the strife
And the hate and the fighting
And the tears and the pain
And the so-called rebellion
That tears us all apart with no end in sight
Moral or immoral

And there's no one
There's no one for this kind of pain
No one to hold
To hear
To cry with you
Or to even see the tears.

They're gone now though
And tomorrow's another day.