Never will you find the reasons   Sand is just a broken stone   Like your love it changes with the seasons   And in the dark I read the lines upon your hand      Junkies, intellects and preachers   All addicted to your clans   Caged by ribs sits the believer   With less friends than fingers on one hand      When silence speaks free   When no one's home   When cold and lucid   When bruised and torn      Look into your abyss   Nothing tastes like this   So look into      Does what you see match what you wanted?   No soft lens, no violins   Like the gray eyes of a dead man, dead man, dead man, dead man   The mirror always stares      When silence speaks free   When no one's home   When cold and lucid   When bruised and torn      Look into your abyss   Nothing tastes like this   So look into      I've got a littlevbit of riddle in my head   I've got a littlevbit of riddle in my head   I've got a littlevbit of riddle in my head   I've got a little      I've got a littlevbit of riddle in my head   I've got a littlevbit of riddle in my head   I've got a littlevbit of riddle in my head   What's the little riddle in your head?      When silence speaks free   When no one's home   When cold and lucid   When bruised and torn      When silence speaks free   When no one's home   When cold and lucid   When bruised and torn      When silence speaks free   When no one's home      Look into my abyss   Nothing tastes like this   Look into your abyss   Look into