I'm giving up, is this my lonely grave?
At least it's not another lonely stage
Conditioned care depending on demand
Or rationed by outrageous rabid fans
She's by my side, I feel her hand in mine
Walking me through this nightmarish life
She's understanding when I wince in pain
She understands why I hide away
We'll run away from those without a heart
We'll keep on running from those critics of art
We'll find a place where skeptics learn to believe
And those once blind will begin to see inside of me
