In life, in it's cold grasp, relentlessly raining down our precious misery. The hold ever tightening, cutting off the hope we once all had. Becoming overbearing, unloving and uncaring about all the secrets we hold inside. Ashamed of what we are, ashamed of who we are, ashamed of what we do. Sharing our story again and again falling on unhearing ears. Your fake compassion, I can see you false sincerity, will anyone ever be able to understand me?