Is there a reason for this life?
Is there a purpose in being right?
I don't believe in any fight
What's the point in taking sides?

Born suicidal, was I dead on arrival?
From glass to sand, it begins in the end
Born suicidal, was I dead on arrival?
From glass to sand, it begins in the end

Think we were born just to die
Wonder why I didn't cry
Doubt and disorder are my allies
Will my hunger soon arise?

Born suicidal, was I dead on arrival?
From glass to sand, it begins in the end
Born suicidal, was I dead on arrival?
From glass to sand, it begins in the end

It begins in the end
It begins in the end

Newborn clean sight will convert the light
All I see are lines, one twisted dot at a time
Newborn clean sight will distort the night

Born suicidal, was I dead on arrival?
From glass to sand, it begins, in the end