Not what I`ve done,not what I`ve spoken Not what I`ve shown,not that I lied Just holding on would render me broken But weak as I am, my hands remain tied Fear of wrath,fear of pain Fear of facing what I am Fear this might leave a stain Of your blood on my hands My face is scarred,my hands unclean Can`t wash away the fool I`ve been Murder one or suicide: Which would be the greater sin? Straining to hold each breath I`m taking A shackle that pulls,I can`t set it free Not quite below,but slowly I`m breaking In saving you I would be killing me Fear of wind,fear of rain We built this house on shifting sand Fear this might leave a stain Of my own blood on my hands My face is scarred,my hands unclean Can`t wash away the fool I`ve been Murder one or suicide: Which would be the greater sin? A wave that hits from behind me A weight that pulls from beneath A storm that blows all around me A fear inside that has bound me