Papa, it’s cold outside.
The night has long fallen and evil walks the streets,
Please hold me, let me forget what is beyond that door.
Just like when I was a little girl, papa, hold me and tell me everything is going to be alright.
No one can be trusted, for evil lingers in the hearts of man,
Waiting for an opportunity to devour the innocent, prey on the weak,
My soul is slowly dying Papa, suffocating under this blanket,
This blanket that is fear.
My heart cries out in anguish!
Who was there for that little girl when her innocence was tarnished? Or that little boy who struggled to rise each day from the previous night’s beating?
No one is safe! The shadows, long and dark stretch out, leaving nothing in their wake but destruction.
Papa, where is the good?
You said my voice should defend the defenseless,
Well, Papa, my voice is hoarse,
Still evil reigns,
Sleep eludes me night after night as I search, now I ask you,
Where is the good, Papa?
Where is the good?