It mattered not about his face nor if he had a face at all
I couldn't eat, couldn't think short breath, blank wall
Studder seems to me the only language to master now
I'd rather die than let him see sweat drips in my brow
I crossed my fingers hard as he passed close today
Praying he wouldn't speak. I wouldn't know what to say
How could I explain this pointless buckle in my knee?
When all there ever was...This Stranger I did see!