I'm growing cold in this lifeless coma. Stuck in a room of endless lies. The truth is at my fingertips, but my arms are paralyzed. Breath life into my lungs. What have I done, what have I become? (Son, what have I done?) I'm breathing life into these lungs... What have I done, what have I done, what have I done... I'm growing colder by the day... What is this feeling that's inside of me!? Am I taking the weight off your shoulders? Am I holding the world on my back? Am I taking the weight off your back? My bodies aching, my mind is racing at the thought. This is not my battle, all my wars have been fought. But like the scared sheep, I fold in the presence of the wolf. It's overwhelming to know the truth. Is this is the end, or are we searching for something to believe? Is this the end, or are we searching for something more? Am I taking the weight off your shoulders? Am I holding the world on my back? The truth is at my fingertips, but my arms are paralyzed...