Here, at the door
You leave your last shred of hope on the floor
And there, once more
You take off your helmet and you drop your sword
So you feel lighter and a little more yourself
You were never the kind to fight back anyway
You enter the battleground
With a shivering hand and the will to prove you're right
It's a slaughter and it's no surprise
You stood still and drew a target on your back
And you feel better as you lie there in the dirt
There is a kind of sweetness that comes with the hurt