In the arms of solitude
all the backs are turned
and the only hand that reaches out to you
is your own, and its charred and burned
In the arms of solitude
you'd wish you could feel pain
because all of your surroundings are blurred
and your visions are a deadly mundane
In the arms of solitude
your rage cannot get away
because soon enough you discover
these arms are your own in some way
In the arms of solitude
somehow you feel at home
escape seems darker
so inside these arms you roam
