hurting time

To everything there is a purpose...

to every blade of grass

and every leaf on every tree

every livin' thing will surely

come to pass

and what will be will be...

that's when the hurting time begins

and all the things you never said

or didn't have to strength to say

and everything you ever did

that time won't ever wash away

fears the you've been livin' with

have gone and left their trace

runnin' down your face

when the hurting time begins...

so tell me what the day brings

has it lost it's thirll?

Are you still searching

hoping for that

space to fill...

everything you turn to

is like a mirror on the shelf

and the only one you're blaming

is yourself

a million little deaths you've died

the time that you've been crucified

the more you've loved and lost and tried

and stil could not be satisfied

when will you be satisfied?

Not till the hurtin' time begins