This song goes out  
to all the hopeless sinners,  
with grave allegiances,  
so meaningless and vain.  
 
The walking wounded in a pagent of contenders 
Who balance on a rail of pain for just a pail of rain. 
 
And everything is barely mist, blood relations and bricks 
my expression, my confession, add it up, extract a lesson, more than this,  
once again, like a bullet as a friend, tell me: can that be all there is?  
 
In my rectory of doubt, I kneel to pray like one devout,  
As time the great gray dreamless sleep of a useless modern god 
erodes away each storied day as wretched Adams with hell to pay 
Content upon a rail of pain for just a little rain. 
 
And everything is dearly missed, blood relations and bricks 
my expression, my confession, add it up, extract a lesson, more than this,  
once again, like a bullet as a friend, tell me: can that be all there is?  
 
There?s an endless disposition,  
and it doesn?t mean a goddamn thing?  
there?s space for a paperairplane race in the eye of a hurricane.  
 
And if pigs could fly, then surely so could I,  
but this pedestrian knows better than to even try,  
and my divinity is caught between the colors of a butterfly.  
 
And everything is dearly missed, blood relations and bricks 
my expression, my confession, add it up, extract duress and more than this,  
once again, like a bullet as a friend, tell me: can that be all there is?  
All there is?