Could you make the morning cry? With spoken words we used to say?
Could you wait and coldly lie? Alone at night in a drowning bay?
I have spoke with the hand of evil. And evil speaks to me.
But every evil has a good and that good I'll try to be.
I cut my arm and watch the pain. As blood my victim shall remain.
Hope in the eyes of the one who sees. Pity to the person, so quickly to grieve.
Pain is like hope in the one who believes. And pain will grow in the one deceived.
Pain is a fashion, and quickly to leave. Pain is different in the person perceived.
Copyright ©2001 Joseph Michael Egan