I'm growing cold in this lifeless coma. Stuck in a room
of endless lies. The truth is at my fingertips, but my
arms are paralyzed. Breath life into my lungs. What have
I done, what have I become? (Son, what have I done?) I'm
breathing life into these lungs... What have I done, what
have I done, what have I done... I'm growing colder by
the day... What is this feeling that's inside of me!? Am
I taking the weight off your shoulders? Am I holding the
world on my back? Am I taking the weight off your back?
My bodies aching, my mind is racing at the thought. This
is not my battle, all my wars have been fought. But like
the scared sheep, I fold in the presence of the wolf.
It's overwhelming to know the truth. Is this is the end,
or are we searching for something to believe? Is this the
end, or are we searching for something more? Am I taking
the weight off your shoulders? Am I holding the world on
my back? The truth is at my fingertips, but my arms are
paralyzed...