The nothingness in which you roam is what it's ought to be.
Always searching for a hand to hold in a place too harsh, too vain, too cold.
Never considered to be strong on your own,
A constant fear of being left alone.
I understand, you have no hope for this world,
No sense of purpose.
My anger fades, but my aggression grows like never before.
Now who's the one to blame for the misery and the pain?
Never considered to be strong on my own,
A constant fear of being left alone.
I understand, you have no hope for this world,
No sense of purpose.
Can I regain what I've let free,

This mess is to complex for me.
Nothing left but the air I breath,
Take it from me.
Crossed fingers, tied arms.
Perfect vision with a blindfold on.
But that's the way it's supposed to be,
When a man can call himself free.
I have no hope for this world,
No trust for the promises heard.
But I have faith in me,
And for everyone else that stands beside me.
Separate me from the masses;
So much to die for, but nothing to live for.
Taken from me.