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There is none righteous, all have turned aside.  Sorrow - fill the lives of falseness and

lies.  Not hunger or thirst, diseases or wars.  Nothing is enough for dying mankind.  There is no horror, which man is not capable.  Misery - and failure, is it what man is made of?

I step aside to listen, the cry of this world.  Pain comes in many forms, enhanced in hands of men.  Constant - amount of pain driving us insane.  I have less so you get more.

Constant are the cries.  You have less so I get more.  Constant are the cries.  Constant - amount of pain driving me insane.  I have less so you get more.  Constant are the cries.

You have less so I get more.  Constant are the cries.  Have a feast at Vanity Fair.  I have less so you get more.  Constant are the cries.  Have a feast at Vanity Fair.  You have less so I get more.  Constant are the cries.