| Song | For the World |
| Artist | Shai Hulud |
| Album | A Profound Hatred Of Man |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Poured myself out: | |
| I am the empty cup | |
| My hope has died away | |
| And my tolerance faded. | |
| How can I keep | |
| Stability | |
| On such shaky ground? | |
| Prayers that a smile will flag me down. | |
| Sadly I抳e learned there抯 no truth in comfort; | |
| Well-being stems not from love. | |
| Anguish proves to be my only means of solace, | |
| Yet I want to be held by anyone, | |
| With any arms | |
| I spend another morn alone | |
| In a world that rejects me. | |
| A public unkind, laced with apathy. | |
| This one抯 for the world: | |
| I hate you. | |
| Life could get no colder; | |
| I抦 living out a dying cell, | |
| But I can pull through. |
| Poured myself out: | |
| I am the empty cup | |
| My hope has died away | |
| And my tolerance faded. | |
| How can I keep | |
| Stability | |
| On such shaky ground? | |
| Prayers that a smile will flag me down. | |
| Sadly I ni e learned there zha no truth in comfort | |
| Wellbeing stems not from love. | |
| Anguish proves to be my only means of solace, | |
| Yet I want to be held by anyone, | |
| With any arms | |
| I spend another morn alone | |
| In a world that rejects me. | |
| A public unkind, laced with apathy. | |
| This one zha for the world: | |
| I hate you. | |
| Life could get no colder | |
| I bing living out a dying cell, | |
| But I can pull through. |
| Poured myself out: | |
| I am the empty cup | |
| My hope has died away | |
| And my tolerance faded. | |
| How can I keep | |
| Stability | |
| On such shaky ground? | |
| Prayers that a smile will flag me down. | |
| Sadly I nǐ e learned there zhā no truth in comfort | |
| Wellbeing stems not from love. | |
| Anguish proves to be my only means of solace, | |
| Yet I want to be held by anyone, | |
| With any arms | |
| I spend another morn alone | |
| In a world that rejects me. | |
| A public unkind, laced with apathy. | |
| This one zhā for the world: | |
| I hate you. | |
| Life could get no colder | |
| I bǐng living out a dying cell, | |
| But I can pull through. |