Been at it for too long Memories tear at me, the blaming game is on They all did their best What I've done to myself is my own problem Where do the lies end, and reality begins? Out of death, go cold and still I am a child Always likely to end up in a place where Violence is, the only language Running from gunfire that cuts through any life Out of breath, cold still Always on the run Marching to the beat, of your own drum Out of touch with everyone Out of touch with everyone Where do lies end, where does reality begin Out of death, cold still Always on the run Marching to the beat, of your own drum The 2019 condition Where white rain falls, love is lost