Songtext von Stranger at the Wake

Everyone's crying, and all I feel is the warmth of the Sun They ask if I'm okay, I say yes, I'm not in pain It's not that I'm cold-hearted it's just that their pain isn't mine Everyone copes with grief in their own way, and yet they still judge their neighbor They want me to scream, to tear my clothes in the town square But the script for grief isn't mine it's what the audience writes If I don't cry at the right time, I become a suspect If I don't feel what they tell me to, I have no right It's not that I don't feel anything it's that I feel differently It's not that I don't love it's that I don't lie to us The world wants a script, a well-rehearsed one I just want to be real, even if I'm condemned Stranger at the wake too sincere for this party Stranger at the wake I don't pretend what's left It's not that I don't feel anything It's that I don't play to the audience They got married, they buried someone, and I treated it all the same Present, absent, in pain and at Christmas This isn't emptiness, this is seeing the world without a veil Without having to pretend everything under the Sun has meaning They condemn me for not crying the way they expected They condemn me for telling the truth when they were lying But I owe no explanation to anyone's script My silence is also the truth, even if it bothers someone It's not that I don't feel, it's that I feel differently It's not that I don't love, it's that I don't lie to us The world wants a script, a well-rehearsed script I just want to be real, even if I'm condemned Stranger at the wake too sincere for this party Stranger at the wake I don't pretend what's left It's not that I don't feel anything It's that I don't play to the audience I don't cry On commission I don't lie Out of politeness They'll judge me for what I didn't pretend to feel But I'd rather have your contempt than lie to myself The Sun still burns even after the burial And I won't apologize for staying alive and whole Stranger at the wake too sincere for this party Stranger at the wake I don't pretend what's left It's not that I don't feel anything It's that I don't play to the audience The Sun, still, beats down