We've pulled away from each other:
Paris is miles away from Lille
And all the distance clouds your will
From my eyes. Now all I hear is whuthers
And all I see is carnage. What treason
Has gnawed thoroughly from within
Once faultless heart? What whims
Have brought you, against reason,
To onslaught of our fellow men?
Now I will see no sense, you're right,
And I won't grasp your thoughts tonight
And I will further pull away, lest
The madness that have turned your head
Contaminates the faith I have.