Thinking how you'd let them touch you

You see her, you can't touch her.

You hear her, you can't hold her.

You want her, you can't have her.

You want to, but she won't let you.

She's not so special so look what you've done, boy...

Now I'm nailed above you, gushing form my side. It's with your sins that you have killed me, thinking of your sins I die, thinking how you'd let them touch you, how you'd never realise, that I'm ripped and hang forsaken, knowing never will I rise again...

You still see her. Oh, you hear hear. You want her. Oh, you want to.