Passing through a cemetery
A cynic’s grave she chanced to see
Who died in the face of a tragedy
His was too vibrant a society
Passing through a cemetery
A cynic’s grave she chanced to see
Who died in the face of a tragedy
His was too vibrant a society
As the world crumbles in your hands
You wonder why you ever took a stand
They say your every move is a sin
But until you break, how will you let the light in?