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 knows 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
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from the face of man.
How many friends can I loose
before it all makes sense?
How many friends can I loose?
Who knows what to say?
When I'm speaking out to quiet crowds
and at the back of the hall the eyes are silent.