Quietly we're taught to listen and resign.
Quiet desperation is our birthright, yours and mine.
And quietly the voice of expectation drowns the dream,
And quiet desperation chokes our soul, so we can't scream.
Till we're tearing at the seam, waiting"¦
Quietly we learn that life is just not fair.
Quiet desperation turns to silence and despair.
And quietly we ask ourselves: how could he choose that way?
While quiet desperation draws us further everyday
From the things we want to say.
And we're waiting for a voice-
Waiting for the voice to call us home to your embrace.
And it doesn't take an angel or some ministers of grace.
All it takes is someone who is saying
I hear you. I am here. I am here.
Something else is said
And the phone goes dead
And quietly it ends before it gets to start
Quietly the center fails
And things all fall apart
And quietly we hide our guilt
Each twinge and every pain
And quietly your life ends
With a whimper, not a bang.
And quietly we ask what songs we might have sang.
We're waiting for a voice;
Waiting for the voice.
Waiting for the voice to call us home to your embrace.
And it doesn't take an angel or some ministers of grace.
All it takes is someone saying
I'm sorry, Malcolm.