Verse 1 In the great white halls where they weigh life on a scale, They draft laws to put out the desire that grows frail, Or to flee from the pain when the body is broke. They speak of choice given, of a gentle light cloak. But three little days, is that time for good sense, Or a doorway swung wide to the whole penitence? When the head starts to spin and the spirit gets lost, How do we say yes to the bridge and its cost? Chorus And the question is asked at the edge of the way: Where does healing depart, where does ending hold sway? If the doubt settles in mid the silence profound, Who protects living life from our own rushing bound? When the fault is all deep and the breath is so small, Is it a right we can buy, or a golden pitfall? Verse 2 They speak of clear judgment within written decrees, For those whose thoughts falter and sink to their knees. But who gauges the weight of a spirit worn through, Of a heavy-bound handicap borne by the few? If the fear of being a burden dictates the decree, Where is true freedom of choice, where is being free? Three days of reflection to decide the whole span, When the heart is so fragile and shakes like a fan. Chorus And the question is asked at the edge of the way: Where does healing depart, where does ending hold sway? If the doubt settles in mid the silence profound, Who protects living life from our own rushing bound? When the fault is all deep and the breath is so small, Is it a right we can buy, or a golden pitfall? Bridge We no longer want suffering, we look for the door, Yet the law of the strong still entraps all the poor. If the gateway stands open with no turning back, Who restrains the quick swing at the edge of the track? Outro The words have been voted, but the doubt stays its hour, On the price of a breath and the end of our power. A question profound... deep inside of the night.
