If these floods keep rising, then I just might drown.
Sure, I know my Beloved is around, somewhere,
Though, I'm swimming in a whirlpool of lassez-faire.
For as long as I have a choice to fight,
There's a knowledge inside that says I just might
Choose to win, not to lose, and thus somehow die
With a tear and a prayer and one question: Why?
Red is the color, Blood, and I wear it.
You see it dripping, I grin and bear it.
I see the mud stains, you see the water.
I see a sinner, you see a daughter.