This is the way, walk in it,
This is the past, dig it up,
This is the pain, stay with it,
This is the cost of denying it.

Show me a light at the end of the tunnel,
I believe something here will make some sense,
I'll look for a light at the end of the tunnel,
Don't leave me rotting in the chrysalis.

These are the experts; buy the book,
And this is your sickness; here's how it looks,
These are the things that you have hooked,
And these are the thieves, and here's what they took.

Show me a light at the end of the tunnel,
I believe something here will make some sense,
I'll look for a light at the end of the tunnel,
But don't leave me rotting in the chrysalis.

The more I think, the less I know,
I resist the letting go, to leave the course of alchemy to him whose hands created me,
Though my feet are made of clay, I know I'm getting somewhere.

Turn the light at the end of the tunnel,
I believe something here will make some sense,
I'll look for a light at the end of the tunnel,
But don't leave me rotting in the chrysalis.

Don't leave me.

Don't leave me.