| Single out the dying | |
| Make more room for nothing | |
| Make it so that there is nowhere left to go | |
| You can't buy your soul back | |
| You won't own it ever | |
| You're just renting it until it rips you apart | |
| There's a place where they go and they lie | |
| For the sic and the lame where they can't touch me | |
| When they die underneath all the lies and deceit | |
| We will cover our tracks and you won't find nothing | |
| Trying to put your finger on it | |
| Point your finger at it | |
| Cut your finger | |
| Keep your eyes out of focus | |
| Keep your mind out of synch | |
| Keep your eyes out of focus | |
| And watch it disappear | |
| One will come a day when old wounds open | |
| You let it happen | |
| The sickness has spread too far | |
| Don't let it happen | |
| Your so called compassion is long gone | |
| We see right through you | |
| Trying to put your finger on it | |
| Point your finger at it | |
| Cut your finger | |
| There's a place in my mind where I go | |
| It protects me from love so it can't kill me | |
| So I lie to myself uninflected with guilt | |
| Here I am - There you are | |
| Can you see the difference? | |
| One will come, arms open | |
| One will come, eyes open |
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