Through jaded eyes; in love there's pain,
The ruin kept for young of heart,
As wisdom makes its scorn so plain.

What solace will to us remain,
When aged do their doom impart?
Through jaded eyes; in love there's pain.

Salvation can we hope to gain,
By playing each tormented part?
As wisdom makes its scorn so plain.

Devotion's warmth can we retain,
Or will we bleed, and drift apart?
Through jaded eyes; in love there's pain.

The youthful plight of sorrow's stain,
Our bitter end, though sweet our start,
As wisdom makes its scorn so plain.

Will apathy forever reign?
Our shallow lust our only art?
Through jaded eyes; in love there's pain,
As wisdom makes its scorn so plain.