The shimmering on the water leaves the outline of a stranger

A silhouette of anger and disgust

His words are cold as ice with syllables of isolation

Defining his own hatred and disgust



You can see the edge of his words From Here

You can see the edge of the world From Here



A veteran of living, he's no babe in the woods

He's learned to walk; He's learned to fall down

He'll lend a hand to no one

In fear of a two-faced con man with a contract on the run



Some say he belongs to the wind

He starts where the end begins

He won't fight for love; He threw it all away

It's just a dangerous game he's learned not to play