| Cold hard lines, across my face into
|
| A mirror I don’t recognise myself anymore.
|
| The deepest blacks, the
|
| Empty grey’s there is no going back
|
| There is no in-between.
|
| How many friends can I loose
|
| Before it all makes sense?
|
| How many friends can I loose?
|
| Who new loose what to say?
|
| When I’m speaking out to quiet crowds
|
| And at the back of the hall the eyes are silent.
|
| Words mean nothing but empty
|
| Providence, all for a God that
|
| Doesn’t seem to care who lives
|
| And who dies, there are no choices.
|
| Each like a body broken struck
|
| From the face of man.
|
| How many friends can I loose
|
| Before it all makes sense?
|
| How many friends can I loose?
|
| Who new loose what to say?
|
| When I’m speaking out to quiet crowds
|
| And at the back of the hall the eyes are silent. |