For those old, afraid to die alone,
And the sons and daughters of broken homes,
Who care for others more than themsleves,
And they play the cards that they've been dealt.
Who've taken the chance, and paid the cost,

Or have carried the caskets of the ones they've lost.
For the faithless man, whose hope has died,
Whose addicted to the substance, and believes its lies.
And the story behind the hidden scars,
That broke the young and fragile hearts.

And for the artist...
who will die with and for the dream that
he has spent his whole life chasing after.
My friends, these are the rocks in our bodies.