| Living under a black moon | |
| Hoping the sun will shine through soon | |
| Nonetheless my heart is stone | |
| Gaping wounds are the cause of my moan | |
| Living under a sky so full | |
| Of dead debris, I try to pull | |
| Away from the fears of life | |
| Away from my pain, my strife | |
| Black moon | |
| We'll be back together soon | |
| Living with ideals they hate | |
| With morals conformists debate | |
| But dyed blonde hair still gets the swoon | |
| Which is why I'm here with my black moon | |
| Black moon... | |
| Until the day we hear them say We're ok, we can stay | |
| We'll wait outside all alone | |
| Trying to find the comfort we lost at home |
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