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You there with your bag of gold,
Thought you had it all together.
But your hands are empty
Does it matter now?
No, the pain it caused you cannot measure.

But who am I?

Who am I to compare my pain to yours?
Suffering is sweet agony.
Who am I to compare my pain to yours?
My suffering must mean nothing.

So, hey there, quit imagining, yeah,
That you have left this life.
Your eyes are tired and your feet are worn,
No, no one seems to hear your desperate cries.

But who am I?

Who am I to compare my pain to yours?
Suffering is sweet agony.
Who am I to compare my pain to yours?
My suffering must mean nothing.

If I believe that's the truth,
Then I believe you.
If that's the way it should be,
Then I believe you.

Who am I to compare my pain to yours?
Suffering is sweet agony.
Who am I to compare my pain to yours?
My suffering must mean nothing.

Who am I to compare my pain to yours?
Suffering is sweet agony.
Who am I to compare my pain to yours?
My suffering must mean something.

Must mean something to you, to me.
It's true.
Who am I?

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