A hot and humid SundayFaces, faces everywhere Then a face, I remember my face years ago Such fearMany psychic scars In just his short few years In the noise of his silence he ran away from the violence To healBut this is my day And I can dream above the buried cry Cause I've got something better And it might just be my own For GoodBut this is my day And I can see the wreckage in my head But it's not the same Cause I transform the pain For GoodI transform the pain For GoodI transform the pain For Good
A hot and humid SundayFaces, faces everywhere Then a face, I remember my face years ago Such fearMany psychic scars In just his short few years In the noise of his silence he ran away from the violence To healBut this is my day And I can dream above the buried cry Cause I've got something better And it might just be my own For GoodBut this is my day And I can see the wreckage in my head But it's not the same Cause I transform the pain For GoodI transform the pain For GoodI transform the pain For Good
