Here he is, he saves a grand

He wants to be the one who doesn't have to sink a level

Indiscrete, in his retreat

All he needs is just a taste of the bitter pride

He held in her name

Embrace the solitude of ordinary fucked up state of grace

Far away from the days he bared the cross she used to wear

In some resolve well aware

A little pitiful, a pin up boy they dress in grieving wear

Well at ease in consent in the drift of undertow

He won't justify the pity from them

When he knows....fools in love are arrogant

Their sermons cloud his breathing air

He's in love with an isolation from emotion

Here he is awaiting sentence

A fool to think that anyone can escape guilt and anguish

A subtlety that can't be learned

A subtlety that can't be taught

He is caught in the lure of second thoughts

He might still care

As he settles down well aware

Bound in secrecy. His voice will only dignify their fears

But sorrow is signified

He's well aware of his pride