There's a height I couldn't reach though I bought the wings to carry me There's a feeling never found though I bought the words to bring it out But then maybe I was better naive Maybe I was better when I couldn't see I felt the water over me A cold and lonely welcoming Not a sign they said I'd find, nor the warmth of the sire's hand on mine But then maybe I was better naive Maybe I was better when I couldn't see I have seen a friend-turned-martyr bleed, and for what? For what a stranger taught to us? With no authority to speak? It's always the loudest who voice only their ignorance It's always the loudest who voice only their ignorance With no authority to speak? The rock should be an anchor for the weak Not this This unfulfilling This subtle guilting A prophet of sympathy... With no authority to speak It's always the loudest who voice only their ignorance It's always the loudest who voice only their ignorance With no authority to speak? And no sense in reasoning Maybe I was better naive Maybe I was better when I couldn't see