If I do it out of a little guilty love and pure survival, Then what the hell does that make me?
Still, the man hollow, not feeling any love.
I have kept my soul pure, even when insane, When is enough to satisfy any of you at all?
And finally, a place to rest this bruised rarity inside unknown.
So tell me where is the justice and paying karma for service rendered, And where are those deep connections, of loyalty and love?
Anything to return, all the good I have done?
It’s cold here in the land of secrets and hidden stories, Been so long since I could lay my guns right down next to home,
Sorry for the clinging to some outside, for pieces missing never found.
In the end, all just words on a screen, small vent, for a gaping hole, How could someone be so special and so destroyed, a query I hope you do not know,
And as I pick up more of others burdens, no one to hear my back cry out again…
…did I mention it was and has been lonely here, carrying all the weight alone?