Here he is, he saves a grin He wants to be the one who doesn't have to sink a level Indiscrete, in his retreat All he needs is just a taste of the bitter pride He held in her name Embrace the solitude of ordinary fucked up state of grace Far away from the days he bared the cross she used to wear In some resolve well aware A little pitiful, a pin up boy they dress in grieving wear Well at ease in consent in the drift of undertow He won't justify the pity from them When he knows... fools in love are arrogant Their sermons cloud his breathing air He's in love with an isolation from emotion Here he is awaiting sentence A fool to think that anyone can escape guilt and anguish A subtlety that can't be learned A subtlety that can't be taught He is caught in the lure of second thoughts He might still care As he settles down well aware Bound in secrecy. His voice will only dignify their fears But sorrow is signified He's well aware of his pride