Who makes these choices Who waves the final hand When wisdom is more than Age or reason Who makes these choices Who makes the final stand When solitude is all That you believe It's all the same And you really should have known It's all the same When your heart grows cold And you're all alone This has no name This feeling that I used to know It's here again I can see the tortured souls As they cry for help Take my hand I'll lead you through the Traps and snares Take my hand I'll feed you and I'll clothe you like My only child There is nothing left to fear My only child There is nothing left To hurt you now! Who makes these choices Who waves the final hand When all around I hear the sound Of pleading for a helping hand Who makes those choices Who makes the final stand When far away I hear them say They couldn't give a damn.... Give a damn! They're crying for help.... Help me! They're crying for help... Help me! They're crying for help... Help me! They're crying for help... Help me!