Is it wicked not to care when they say that you're mistaken
Thinking hopes and lots of dreams that aren't there?
Is it wicked not to care when you've wasted many hours
Talking endlessly to anyone that's there?

I know the truth awaits me
But still I hesitate because of fear

Skipping tickets, making rhymes, is that all that you believe in?
Wearing rags to make you pretty by design
Rusting armor for effect, it's not fun to watch the rust grow
For it will all be over when you're dead

Counting acts and clutching thoughts by the river where the moss grows
Over rocks, the water running all the time
Is it wicked when you smile even though you feel like crying?
Even though you could be sick at any time

But if there was a sequel
Would you love me as an equal?
Would you love me 'till I'm dead?

But if there was a sequel
Would you love me as an equal?
Would you love me 'till I'm dead?

And if there was a sequel
Would you love me as an equal?
Would you love me 'till I'm dead?
Or is there someone else instead?