Billy is a man who let care slip from his clutch
He stares with the eyes of a man who's seen too much
His capital's gone, his dues are unpaid
His heart is surrounded with a barricade
He knows you don't need to be conscientious
At a masquerade
And he can't see light
Keeps his eyes shut tight
In search of a blissful ignorance
But he can't find peace
In a society that would reward him
For his nonchalance
Billy walks around with a callous on his brain
It's partly a result of overuse and partly a lack of the same
Truth is a subject like a hand-grenade
God is a phantom on some prosaic page
Anything suggested is detested and fades like the smell of a summer rain
And he can't see light
Keeps his eyes shut tight
In search of a blissful ignorance
But he can't find peace
In a society that would reward him
For his nonchalance
Billy wears his secrecy like a glove
He slips away if he feels the slightest twinge of a gentle love
He says he didn't acquire his scars in vain
That there's a clear association between love and pain
But he wishes he could just look up at the stars
And feel loved again
And he can't see light
Keeps his eyes shut tight
In search of a blissful ignorance
But he can't find peace
In a society that would reward him
And embrace him
And make him feel right at home
With his nonchalance
