He was the pride of my Father A perfect, obedient, humble son Neither broken back of tired bones Nor two arms covered with scars. But all those days are gone The golden age of privilege And what I've found in God Are disrespect and ignorance Towards my pain The silent death of Cain Shivering desires burn inside A fire, a grief, an old fear Lord I've spilled my brother's blood Yet no shame dwells in my heart Marked since the day I was born But no one will pray for the silent death of Cain "And now art thou cursed from the earth, Which hath opened her mouth to receive thy brother's blood from thy hand; A fugitive and a vagabond thou shalt be in the earth. And Cain said unto the Lord: My punishment is greater than I can bear" A cursed life, in the deepest things of all The day I died I was left utterly alone No one will pray for the death of Cain I steal the days from misery With simple faith and real sins Yet no one will pray for the silent death of Cain