The little kid is on his way home

Is unaware that he is about to be shown

To be without a lifeline, without a phone

And to know what it is like to feel being alone

 

And when he’s struck, he feels very scared

And tries and fails to send up a flare

He feels his eyes and ears being slowly impaired

He then tries to run, but there is nowhere

 

He feels the fangs, drawing blood, drawing red

And he hears the laughter ringing through his head

But the enemy leaves, to find another instead

When the boy awakens, he wonders if he is dead

 

From that day forward, that kid feels strange

And he sees his dreams racing out of his range

And he sees his life burning the page

And all that remains is a horrible rage

 

He sees no light, and feels only pain

And regret of the one who made him feel so lame

And there is nothing to save him, no one remains

And he even doesn’t have any person to blame

 

Alive or dead, which one is he

All we know is that he’s unhappy

Maybe someday that kid will see

That life is not only about being free

 

He butchers and slaughters his own emotions

And gets violent at the very notion

That he has gone mad and he feels just like the ocean

With despair flowing on forever in a surge motion

 

But then light appears so peaceful and warm

And that kid feels no more being scorned

He feels better than ever before

And thinks good thoughts forever more

 

No more hate and bloody murder

No more pain or eternal torture

Forever