For you I guess I'll tear out my lungs,
And present them both on silver platters,
Only then in time perhaps,
Will you see again what really matters,
So I'll carry my burden,
Down the bottom of the well,
Beyond the burning sulphur smell,
Beyond the sand, the rocks, the swell,
The web of lies that he once span,
Were never a part of my masterplan,
I never foresaw the damage done,
When I first laid eyes upon the sun,
Under this hill,
You'll find no gold,
No matter your hopes, your desires, your will,
We're all just fools when all's been told.
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