To everything there is a purpose ...
  To every blade of grass
  And every leaf on every tree
  Every livin' thing will surely
  Come to pass
  And what will be will be ...
  That's when the hurtin' time begins
    And all the things you never said
  Or didn't have the strengh to say
  And everything you ever did
  That time won't ever wash away
  Fears that you've been livin' with
  Come runnin' down your face
  Runnin' down your face
  When the hurtin' time begins ...
    So tell me what the day brings
  Has it lost it's thrill?
  Are you still searching
  Hoping for that
  Space to fill ...
  Everything you turn to
  Is like a mirror on the shelf
  And the only one you're blaming
  is yourself
    A million little deaths you've died
  The times that you've been crucified
  The more you've loved and lost and tried
  And still could not be satisfied
  When will you be satisfied?
  When will you be satisfied?
  Not till the hurtin' time begins