I pick a strand of grass
A slither of the green...

Hate and loathing
Pure deciet...

The pain I feel inside is real.
I see their faces in my dreams...

Moment after moment
Fight after fight...

The flower of the innocent
Is gorgeous while it lasts...

He whispers in my ear
The words flow like a stream...

My heart is open; it’s never shut.
Stitches that once held have now been cut...

Death, Destruction, Killing raids
Taken love and lonely hearts...

She stands solitary
Scared of every movement...

I pick a strand of grass
A slither of the green...

I pick a strand of grass
A slither of the green...

My heart is open; it’s never shut.
Stitches that once held have now been cut...