Where have all the children gone?
To what shelter has innocence fled?
Where are the children hiding?
It can't be true that love is dead?
Where is my childhood now?
Why do I have to grow up?
When did they stop telling me how?
And expecting me to take the jump?
Why does it hurt this bad?
Why won't you help me now?
Why pass yourself off as so sad?
When you don't even really know how?
If I find my life's calling?
What if I never can?
Love hurts, so they call it 'falling'?
You tell me I don't know who I am?
Do I really have to do this?
What if I don't want to?
Why won't the answers come from you?
Are these questions I'm asking a little too true?
If I died, would it take very long?

Where have all the children gone?