I'm not afraid to watch it go, but it's sobering. I'm left to fend the world off on my own. And I still struggle with it, though less every day, cause there's comfort in knowing you're alone. And if you had to face it, what would you say? Often scars only prove that you were wrong. I couldn't let the chance go by, without mentioning, our complicity in the lack of meaning in our souls. I've stood in crowded rooms that had so much to say, but now I realize being outspoken is just dressing for that role. I've had the chance to feel complacent with nothing good to say, while it was my heart breaking all along, and you're dying to fuel your patience but we both know some day, That the louder the music, the faster it's played finds you closer to the end of your song. Who am I to say there's something wrong with you? How could we all just give in and let it slip away? It's happening again, we watch the world as it falls apart at the seams. But it's so different now, because we're all watching and no one knows what it means. Who am I to say there's something wrong? Who am I to say there's something wrong? - with you. - with me, - with every one in the world. So don't let that sorrow slip away.