This futile game

we're forced to play

In displaced lives we hunt our pray

Running on,

Crying out, no-one hears

Pestilence, forgotten tears

Seeking, lost and forgotten

Every sense wicked, rotten

There was a time when everything wasn't fine

My heart was cold, too much wrong kind of people in the line

The problem that most of you knows too,

Who to trust, fear of being the fool