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 hurtin' time begins
And all
the things you never said Or didn't have the strengh to say And
everything you ever did That time won't ever wash away Fears that you've
been livin' with Come runnin' down your face Runnin' down your
face When the hurtin' time begins ...
So tell me what the day
brings Has it lost it's thrill? 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 times that you've been crucified The more you've
loved and lost and tried And still could not be satisfied When will you
be satisfied? When will you be satisfied? Not till the hurtin' time
begins