The world shifts below our feet,
Moving with a quickening beat.
One step, two steps, three for sure,
Leaving us all wanting more.
Whispering into the blowing wind,
About all the times you have sinned.
Hold onto the falling sand,
Through your fingers, out your hand.
You will keep on grabbing,
It will keep on stabbing.
Escaping through any gap,
Not caring about the time map.
Fate is choosing your every move,
You have nothing left to prove.
Soon it will be the end,
And you'll have nothing to spend.
Finished, goodbye, gone,
This time is wrong...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment