most of what you
live for, means nothing to me
there's nothing you would die for, and that saddens me
the blood on your hands makes me sick
and the reasons you give are meaningless.
what I am to gain, to go your way is worthless
only to attain all your pain and lack of purpose
you put on your mask of contentment
to cover the shame on your face
and you push me toward shining achievement
but my God has called me today.