Written in the aftermath of a tragic murder-suicide in my hometown.
|Oh, this pain, how can I cope with it?
The sorrow dealt by the hand of infinite sickness
But this tragedy is beyond my control
Something of which I must let go
We all must cease to exist someday
Why did you have to go this way?
What we thought was meant to be
Now that the future's come and gone
And we realized we were wrong
How can we ever regain what was lost?
I find no solace, just emptiness in the platitudes of your advice
You have no genuine answers for anyone in this life
No point attempting to make sense out of all that occurs--
[In] this relentless series of events--
All I know is that he should have shot himself first!
What did you want[,] to hear me foresee?
This is not what we thought was meant to be
Now you know how sad the truth can seem
That which has the power to set you free indeed!