And then I wash my hands of your blood

Trying to convince myself that my actions

Aren't the only reason that your blood must be shed.

Betrayed with a kiss

Yet I deal you the same insult every day that I'm alive

I pretend that it's alright - I pull the wool over my own eyes

Sheltering myself from a reality I couldn't survive

With a sheild of deciept and complacency

While I should be helping you carry your cross
I stand in the crowd and hope that no-one will notice.