Crying for Help IV - Arena

Who makes these choices

Who waves the final hand

When wisdom is more than

Age or reason

Who makes these choices

Who makes the final stand

When solitude is all

That you believe

It’s all the same

And you really should have known

It’s all the same

When your heart grows cold

And you’re all alone

This has no name

This feeling that I used to know

It’s here again

I can see the tortured souls

As they cry for help

Take my hand

I’ll lead you through the

Traps and snares

Take my hand

And I’ll feed you and I’ll clothe you like

My only child

There is nothing left to fear

Oh, my only child

There is nothing left

To hurt you now!

Who makes these choices

Who waves the final hand

When all around

I hear the sound

Of pleading for a helping hand

Who makes those choices

Who makes the final stand

When far away I hear them say

They couldn’t give a damn…

Give a damn!

They’re crying for help…

Help me!

They’re crying for help…

Help me!

They’re crying for help…

Help me!

They’re crying for help…

Help me!