I hear the voices passing in time as the rain pours frm the heavens, this long empty road, have i become what i wanted to be, so bitter n hollow? I dnt remember wanting to be like this. The voice of hate nw manifests itself n i see myself so tainted so cold so here i stand in the rain soaked to the bone waiting for that sound, that voice hidden deep inside bt as i turn around thr us nothing to be found.