Here in a church a small boy in kneeling,
He prays to a God he doesn't know, he cannot feel.
All of his sins of childhood he will remember,
He will not cry, tears he will not cry.

Man of sorrows, I wont see your face!
(I wont see your face)
Man of sorrows, you left without a trace!
A small boy wonders, what was it all about?
Is your journey over - has it just begun?

A vision of a new world from the ashes of the old,
"Do what thou wilt!" he screams from his cursed soul.
A tortured seer, a prophet of our emptiness
Wondering why, wondering why...

A man of sorrow's wrecked with thoughts that dare not speak their name.
Trapped inside a body, made to feel only guilt and shame,
His anger all his life, "I hate myself!", he cried.
"Do what thou wilt, do what thou wilt!", he cried.

Man of sorrows, I wont see your face!
(I wont see your face)
Man of sorrows, you left without a trace!
A small boy wonders, what was it all about?
Is your journey over - has it just begun?

Has it just begun?

© Bruce Dickinson