How I'd like to shake this body off I want to adore The hands that hate us all My darling there must be pieces missing? I swear to Tell noone what becomes of you How I'd like to shake this body off A feather to the storm The hands that break the soul They will keep us spinning Now you're saying things you never meant We're really not so different We'll isolate the enemies And make them help? And my father, sire Father, liar Father, sire Father, liar How I'd like to shake this body off And to scratch away the thorns From the hands that will not hold And they will not help us now