| Suppressed by mountains of rage
|
| Yearling within a hope
|
| Someday he’ll amount to something
|
| Someday he’ll amount to nothing
|
| His hands remain empty, his eyes sewn shut
|
| His heart remains starving, his hope somehow caught
|
| Between right and wrong, right and wrong
|
| Right and wrong, right and wrong
|
| A gap to be bridged
|
| A life to be lived
|
| A soul to be saved
|
| A hope unscathed
|
| His hands remain empty, his eyes sewn shut
|
| His heart remains starving, his hope somehow caught
|
| Between right and wrong
|
| Right, right, right, right
|
| Still something from nothing is still nothing
|
| Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
|
| Not yet, he’ll never be anything, don’t doubt me
|
| Can I find my deadly, can I find my deadly
|
| Excuse in your vast emptiness?
|
| Can I live my life in your delusion?
|
| With hope I’ll be someone to build
|
| A mountain from nothing
|
| To be someone, someday, someday
|
| Can I find my deadly
|
| Excuse in your vast emptiness?
|
| Can I live my life in your delusion?
|
| With hope I’ll be someone someday
|
| With hope I’ll do something or nothing
|
| Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing
|
| Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing |