The tv spits out
pretentious junk
it's like having a summerholiday in march
You picked up the guitar
to purify
Everyone exept your kind
The morals speak out
they leak from your mouth
you picked them up in the way
Maybe you should have
started With the
demons you have yourself

It's hard to see the
cracks within your mind
You sing about the soul
but do you believe in it yourself?

Now you have friends
that put on a act
They have the parts because of you
but your the
only one
That doesn't know the script
it's filled with envy
and deception
that kind that doesn't end well
Even you know
that somethings not right
but the wispers are so faint

It's hard to see the
cracks within your mind
You sing about the soul
but do you believe in it yourself?
You think about the longing
It sounds so boring
You dont want to feel it
for anyone