In the white washed cancer ward with my hot blood running wild
i see the pain behind your eyes and the search for a reason
and the knowing and the fear of the passing season
now please give me strength to cut and to keep our secret
please give me strange to cut
Ch: that the things we love may remain here still
there is time to wait and there's a time to kill
i see your outstretched hand through the closing door
but it's a far better thing i do than i have done before
And so it seems that murder's not so hard - i've eaten flesh and blood each day
and if i believe the things i write through the passing season
then with a rifle in my hand and with a thousand reasons
i'll wait, far above the crowd in the summer sunshine
and history changes now, forever
that the things we love may remain here still
there is time to wait and there's a time to kill
from the barren land come the seeds of war
so it's a far better thing that i do than i have done before