Time is on your side, what a beautiful lie; so many reasons to cry, so many wishes to die. Spare time is worse, to reflect on your curse. When life moves this slow you prefer a physical blow. You just want to go, youβre sick of feeling alone. You quit asking why when youβre too tired to try. You barely get by and long for the end. This hand you were dealt you canβt ever amend. You'd rather fold, It's getting so old. Your life's a joke, even with money; you'll always be broke.