Ashes fall from the cigarette of the man who can't forget Who learns more from a single second of silence Than from any word ever spoken to him Any poem misunderstood Or from every second of his past that haunts him
Could I be more lonely I don't know if I could
Put in front of the mirror Why he can't recall As he stares into the scars he cannot cover But to all hands laid upon him And all the hands that try to hold him The pain still hides beneath the surface
Could I be more lonely...
Night passes behind him but he doesn't turn to look The shackles and the gag will not allow it So far am I from caring, he says Or do I care too much? For the more I give the more I must be given