Rumor is I’ve gone to New York City
To fall upon my sword
Mouthed with such regret and misplaced pity
For a martyr without a cause.
You don’t believe in what I believe in
Two steps past where I ended and pretended
That I didn’t care
Is one step closer to the rended inner ending
Befitting of a dream
You don’t believe in what I believe in
You don’t believe at all.
When will this bitterness recede
And haunted dreams reprieve, be given.
When will I have the proof or need the proof at all.
You don’t believe in what I believe in.
You don’t believe at all.
You don’t believe in what I believe in
You don’t believe at all.