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Murder

Some of them standing, some are waiting in line

As if there was something that they thought they might find

Taking some strength from the feelings that always were shared

And in the background, the eyes that just stare

What was it brought you out here in the dark?

Was it your only way of "making your mark"?

Did you get rid of all the voices in your head?

Do you now miss them and the things that they said?

On your own admission, you raised up the knife

And you brought it down, ending another mans life

When it was done, you just threw down the blade

While the red blood spread wider, like the anger you made

I don't want this anger, burning in me

It's something from which it's so hard to be free

And none of the tears we cry in sorrow or rage

Can make any difference, or turn back the page

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