Keep staring at the clock and you'll catch those hands; wake up old, confused, and hurting.

This will be my last report
I've done run the course
Got buyers remorse

Cold    startin this *******
Just ain't worth it no mo

I'll pull up on the Saturday night
Park n **** the lights
It'll be alright

Let it rust   n turn to dust
No need to fuss or fight

It's all waiting on the flippity
That I'll never see
Oh woe is me

What a waste, gone without a trace
What a dull ending

It was okay.
I didn't feel it.
When you said 'this',
I didn't see it.
I remember for once
What I'm here for.
This isn't it.
I don't feel it.

The world stopped turning but things still spin.
I think we need a rewind to do it again.
The tape's getting old, the wax is crumblin,
but it's bending round the folds and the sounds keep mumblin.
I know there's a toll coming up ahead. I didn't bring any change but I brought some bread to keep the
birds nearby flying over my head.
They let me know if they've been fed.
They don't say nothing, but I understand.
They let me know if there's something dead.
They don't say nothing, but I understand.

They told me I should plan a trip,
but they never mentioned I was already on it.
They told me it would all add up,
but I'm always short so I resort to pawnin.

God help me; birds, here's your bread.
Tell me if I'm already dead.
I'm heading for the mountains, empty-handed.
They don't say nothing, but I understand.

What can I dream, outside of a memory?
What can I be, without you?

Bear with me. I'll bear with you.
Together, we can carry the world

This quicksand doesn't give out refunds, so please keep pulling. Whatever is left of me, is yours.