The truth is that nobody cares,
All we have are these hollow prayers.
Nobody will understand when we cry
And nobody ever realizes that it could be the last "goodbye."
The truth is nobody has a mended heart,
You could try to fix it, but it'll always fall apart.
And in the end all we are left with are these tattooed scars,
They left burns on your skin like your fathers old cigars.
The truth is that everyone is blind,
We're all under a spell that takes over our mind.
Nobody ever looks beneath people's skin
And that's what matters the most, what lies within.
