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

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