Her lips are pressed to the telephone

A silent prayer for the one she loves

No words to bridge the emptiness

Breathing in corridors

Glancing through windows

Innocence is the wrong virtue

For a child of sin.

The roads find her alone

And the darkness leads her

To endless sorrow.

Breathing in corridors

Glancing through windows

Innocence is the wrong virtue

For the child of sin.

A sacrificial anthem sung today

The acid melody of scorn

The bitter symphony of disbelief.