In the uncertainty of a night alone the voices are far too loud.
They scream and squeal and shout.
In the certainty of not knowing my soul becomes restless.
And a restless soul is seldom selfless.
The jealously invites the madness, the madness seduces pain.
And in all this sadness what am I to gain?
Torture me no more, leave my battered heart alone.
Strip me of all I should have thrown.
Although the agony tears my chest to shreds,
in all these words I lay my doubts to rest.
For to love is to suffer with a smile,
and even though the tears are flowing its only for a while.