With every step I take I know, there is a cover we should blow.
He walks among us in disguise, keeping his message out of sight.
If this is the meaning, then what's the end?
This is demeaning, a virtual slap in the face.
No lessons learned, all that we know, is that in every given move.
There is a force to hold us back, that turns the darkness into black.
So what is the story?
So what's the truth?
So is there an answer, behind the screen of fake?
How does it feel to be a part?
Part of a plan mean to an end.
A sacred guinea-pig.
You know that Misery loves you.
I'm dwelling in a world of pain.
Broken, alone, sick and depressed.
Exposed to papercuts and war.
You know that Misery loves you.
Come closer whisper in my ear, that you are more than you appear.
So that I know falling apart, it's not my choice, it's not my fault.
So show me an exit, or a hideaway.
A hole in the ground.
And let me crawl right back.
How does it feel to be a part?
Part of a plan mean to an end.
A sacred guinea-pig.
You know that Misery loves you.
I'm dwelling in a world of pain.
Broken, alone, sick and depressed.
Exposed to papercuts and war.
You know that Misery loves you.