There’s a silence among the mourners as they wail into a crowded room, with covered up mirrors and hushed conversations.
Listen to their faith in You, watch as they follow You.
There’s a silence within the raging and raving well dressed gentleman standing on the corner of sixth avenue and 23rd Street. His voice echoes across the empty midnight canyons, searching for You.
Can You hear his voice? Can You heal his wounds?
Is it an omen that ominous signs seem to be appearing from behind those ominous clouds up in the sky?
I close my eyes I listen for His words but all I hear is deafening silence.
I know that You are with me, I know that You are there, I just need to know which way to turn, can You help me there?
Can You hear my voice? Can You feel what I feel?
Lonely teardrops falling within, so as not to be revealed. In a crowd I am alone in a party of misery.
An overwhelming extravagant celebration filled with hedonistic needs, acts of cannibalism being fulfilled and embraced.
I don’t belong, I don’t belong.

Where do I belong? Where do I belong?

Can You hear my voice? Can You feel what I feel?
I don’t belong, I don’t belong.

Where do I belong? Where do I belong?