I speak the truth
So no one can hear it,
And claim, mighty matyr,
I am misunderstood.
This is old hurt, they say,
Old ways of surviving,
To blow the fury out inside,
Safeguard the beauty.
Yet there is always someone listening
Larger than this world
Who says what must be said
Must be said
As long as there is one, however
Lonely, to listen.
