We live in a world so cold,
filled with hatred, filled with love.
When everything you have gets sold,
and all you see is that one little dove.

You have nobody, but yourself,
living alone in this thing you call life.
You don't know who to tell,
on how you're thinking of suicide.

You take one step closer,
to the edge of right and wrong.
Thinking is she sober,
and saying no you can hear that song.

You go one step too far,
going down, down, down.
While she sits at the local bar,
and you are nowhere to be found.

She sits there drinking away the pain.
She thinks of how she ruined your life.
When you're only here in the rain,
she goes to the house, and grabs the knife.

She took the knife, and now there's two above,
They fell off the edge of right and wrong.
This world is a hatred place of love,
and now they both have lost their song.