There is a certain kind of sorrow
It bleeds backwards from tomorrow
It seethes, rends, and screams at night
It whispers promises of yet unknown fright

There is a certain kind of terror
When you realize too late the error
The sort of mistake you can't take back
The kind that leaves you shrunken, black

There is a certain kind of lonely
That aches even more in the homely
It echos and rebounds until you're done
Chills your bones in the warmth of the sun

When these three meet, men will falter
Stumble and they catch you faster
They cut and change and rip and alter
They shout and call out to their master

Breathe in deep before they rise
They're easy to defeat my friend
Steady your heart; close your eyes
Each new fear is not your end