Blank face in the windowpane 
Made clear in seconds of light 
Disappears and returns again 
Counting hours, searching the night

Might be waiting for someone 
Might be there for us to see 
Might be in need of talking 
Might be staring directly at me 

Inside plays a lullaby 
Slurred voice over children cries 
On the inside 

Haunting loneliness in the eye 
Skin covering a secret scar
His hand is waving a goodbye 
There's no response or action returned 

There is deep prejudice in me 
Outshines all reason inside 
Given dreams all ridden with pain 
And projected unto the last