A sense of place, a sense of waste, don't know how this can be...

The silence that envelops me, whispers something, subtly

Exhale and change the atmosphere

They've left a trace of their fear...

How could something like this have happened in a place like this?

Such mindless violence..

The surroundings hold their secrets

How could something like this have happened in a place like this?

A new day is here, but there's a trace of yesterday

Here the trees can speak, in voices weak that suggest a tale of pain

Of tears shed in the pouring rain...

But at that, they halt their sad refrain

Look up, at the vault of starts and the calming harvest moon

A witness to the unspeakable, and easily repeatable

Cry out to change the atmosphere

Some kind of presence is here...

How could something like this have happened in a place like this?

Such mindless violence..

The surroundings hold their secrets

How could something like this have happened in a place like this?

A new day is here, but there's a trace of yesterday

Red wine spilled on the carpet - we can clean it up

Tracks left on the beach that the tides wash away

Footprints dug deep in the snow - they'll melt away

But what can wash the stain away from this place?

A new day is here

There are traces of yesterday

This place is stained - what will it take to wash them away