Born in the ashes
Side of the road
Made for hunger
The orphan knows
To drink upon the wine the past to which I hold
Not who I am but what I know
Will you be mine
Will you be mine
Will you be mine
The shattered mirror
The bloody hand
The empty bottle
On the nightstand
To love a fool just means to take him as he stands
But who could love not who I am
Will you be mine
Will you be mine
Will you be mine
Will you be mine