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