There's certain people in this world
Who try to make your soul a mess,
And watch as hearts become unfurled
In tragic states of loneliness.

Perhaps it is they do not care;
Perhaps they mean it, more or less.
Perhaps they think it's only fair
That others will feel loneliness.

Perhaps, but on the other hand,
I do not wish it on another,
And I will do all that I can
To make you feel like you're my brother.

The light may seem it's dimming down
But through it all I must confess
That I must also bear that crown,
And be consumed by loneliness.

Because of people in this world
Who want to see my soul a mess,
And watch as my heart is unfurled
In tragic states of loneliness.