He cries out to God or just no one
Then in violent frustration
I feel
He cries out to God or just no one
A singer, a writer
And he stood tall
First got him there, there, there, there
And submits to the substance
And all that he was is just a tragedy
A whole cup full of nothing for him to indulge
So he voyages in circles
Then he yelled, then he yelled
His heart in his hand
Succeeds getting nowhere
He gave heed to nothing
Is there a point to this madness
Is there a point to this madness
He's alone
He feels alone
Then in violent frustration
He's not dreaming of now of going nowhere
Since the voice of ambition has long since been shut up
He feels alone
And all that he was is just a tragedy
Then on that last day he breaks
