Well you’re living,And you breatheBut I’m thinkingAnd I believeI suppose, that I should have knownThat the path I’d followed was bound to crumble,Since the cloud I’d jumped on, was built of stone. Well her skin is a fabricWar torn, more than ever learnedAnd the threads are peeling,For the future she’s always yearned. You say she’s wrong for the means and the modeAnd yet her family’s dying, since her prayers were left alone. This cloud I jumped on, Has a name named necessity? You say I’m a whore, a fiend.Well I say, not necessarily. I know, that my ship has sunkAnd I have hit the groundBut for a means to a meaningI still rode the ship ride out. All it was,Was to showThat god knows,

A shred of human decency is still unknown.