I sit here everyday, doing the same thing I did before.
I write some words on some paper, but never anything more.
I wish and I hope for something else to come along.
Like maybe depth behind the words, so I can finally finish the song.
But the words just lie empty and nothing more ever comes,
so I take the empty words' heavy price and add it to my sums.
And pretty soon here, I'll be paying the largest price to pay,
if I don't do something different than what I did yesterday.
But what is there to do in this world so full of hate,
when there's no way to get to the other side of heaven's pearly gates?
And what is there to be said that can change this fearful word,
when everyone's talking all at once? No way to hear a single girl.
And even if I could scream that loud, how would I make everyone listen?
For even in my own self, my eyes have lost their glisten.
What I want isn't peace; it isn't hate or love.
All I want is to be heard by the man who lays up above.
And maybe if he answers, just maybe, on that day,
I'll have the faith to do something different than what I did yesterday.