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 secret scars 

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 lost