I probably knew all along, that in my hour of need, that you'd be gone. I'm guessing you thought about it all, but you turned your back on me, and lost your tongue. Isn't it a pity, that when the night time comes, there's no one in your arms? Isn't it a pity, that I still cry for you, but you're not coming home? The weight sinking deep in my chest, setting off the loaded charge, lurking in the depth. Deep down I smolder and see, with unspoken pains, and poison beliefs. So isn't it a pity, that when the night time comes, there's no one in your arms? Isn't it a pity, that I still cry for you, but you're not coming home? Oh, in my hour of need, you turned your back on me, in my hour of need. Now all your fabled advice, rings of emptiness, and studded lines. Now I have resolved to erase, all the bitterness, and venom in my veins. Still isn't it a pity, that when the night time comes, there's no one in your arms? Isn't it a pity, that I still cry for you, but you're not coming home? Isn't it a pity, that in my hour of need, you turned your back on me? Isn't it a pity? Isn't it a pity?