To everything there is a purpose ...

To every blade of grass

And every leaf on every tree

Every livin' thing will surely

Come to pass

And what will be will be ...

That's when the hurtin' time begins



And all the things you never said

Or didn't have the strengh to say

And everything you ever did

That time won't ever wash away

Fears that you've been livin' with

Come runnin' down your face

Runnin' down your face

When the hurtin' time begins ...



So tell me what the day brings

Has it lost it's thrill?

Are you still searching

Hoping for that

Space to fill ...

Everything you turn to

Is like a mirror on the shelf

And the only one you're blaming 

is yourself



A million little deaths you've died

The times that you've been crucified

The more you've loved and lost and tried

And still could not be satisfied

When will you be satisfied?

When will you be satisfied?

Not till the hurtin' time begins