| «There is a man in this world
|
| Who has never smiled
|
| You may know his tragedy
|
| The later years, by heart
|
| In the beginning
|
| There was a mother, father and a child
|
| A troubled little silent boy
|
| Whose life they were to destroy
|
| Known to us from this day
|
| On like his father, Caleb.»
|
| His mother came up with such a clever way to save the day with a little white
|
| lie
|
| He thinks he missed the point back then, but now he’s grown to understand it,
|
| in a way
|
| «Father said „I'm sorry“ only once, as I remember»
|
| «The words weren’t meant to hurt, only destroy you, my stupid son…»
|
| One person can make a difference, sometimes…
|
| Just turn his head when the kid is still and has a weak neck
|
| Smiled at his funeral, «happy you’re dead.»
|
| All his solutions, it seemed, were only problems in disguise
|
| Glueing on his drinkin' face, got ready to erase another day…
|
| Mother was yet confident, although they had it tight, taught her son
|
| At the end of every tunnel’s a little light
|
| It wasn’t a lie, it was her hope, that everything would be fine one day
|
| «He can fulfill his every dream, I’m happy as long as he’s not.»
|
| «I hate it and fear can’t face it
|
| The child is not right, he’s my greatest shame»
|
| Go out, create thunder, and stand right under
|
| That old apple tree
|
| Where dead snakes let him feed on those
|
| Lost hopes, all those kind words could hurt him even more, now
|
| Somehow, lost one more way back home
|
| Out on the lake, he rows towards a monster he should’ve been running away from,
|
| years ago
|
| The past had made him blind to the way he’d turned the pain into a way of life
|
| Followed his father, tucked him in, Caleb knows the trade
|
| He’s the portrait of a man his mother drew to hate forever
|
| She was a beast, a deadly saint, wrong in many ways
|
| Wanted to keep up the charade, until the end waltzing together
|
| Over the hills, under the sea
|
| Fighting the will, whole Universe
|
| Why does a man driving a hearse
|
| Live in fear, Gift and a Curse
|
| Taking 'em out, taking 'em all
|
| Shooting the wall, over and out
|
| When nothing moves, all’s well
|
| A decision he can find a way to live with
|
| …and dried up flowers are so beautiful
|
| And it applies to all things living, and dead
|
| For that I serve my time… in my suite in Hell
|
| «Now I ring the bell to tell the world
|
| I’m ready when they bring out the soon to be dead against the wall …»
|
| Oo-oo-ooo
|
| This necessary evil has no heart
|
| Ooo-oo-ooo
|
| Flowers and people he will now enlace
|
| A price he must pay serving a cold
|
| …whatevergod |