Any ship can sink.
No captain can stop this.
All it takes is one second,
And you’re sinking into darkness.

As I descend, fade to black-
Skip the “shades of gray.”
A single phrase to break this vessel:
I need some time away.

Before I’m found all blue,
Another phrase to make me think.
*You don’t always make it back to land.
Every ship will sink.

This pocket watch, it ticked past every one of my mistakes.
What happened? Did it age, rust, or finally give out and break?
Any old broken pocket watch would drag me to the ground
In return for all the times that it’s been dropped and tossed around.
But I carry this old pocket watch, not caring that it’s dead.
It leased my mind to scrolling numbers, and acted as a friend.
It’s plausible, if time were false, that I’d be rent asunder
Like a feeling of too close lightning with a distanced wispy thunder.
But a trust instilled by this coin’s lost pulse is a perfect fit for me.
It’s golden chain, in ironic fashion, has finally set me free.

I’ll set you down in an honorable place.
Days are fleeting, I must make haste.
An uphill battle, no time for face.
Forget the Watch, no time to waste.

Father.
Oh, how well we could walk,
If we'd only listen to Counsel.
If we'd change out our ears,
And dial in our eyes.
Son.
As to hear something we've already lost?
As to see something we've already done?
The spills we take would be mocked
By how often we were made to stop and hear and see.
But were we not made to do?
After all, that's how you've learned.
After all, that's how All of you have learned.
So I will do, and not only be.
And yes, I will counsel when it's time for that role to be passed down to me.

So then tell me now, is it so hypocritical to live without friction
While trying to balance all of the misconstrued and prompted opinions?
I'll find them some sort of use, even though
Now is my time to crawl around, crouched down on my feet.
I'll feel out my own course, not but half-blind.
Aye, Time will do his work on me,
And I will become just like you.
So, in trying to learn better,
How 'bout I listen and do?

Weren’t we in love?
Now we shake hands.
It’s been almost two years,
And life’s still just as bland.

Now and again I think about everything.
From our first day to the last.
We felt like we knew each other,
But we hadn’t met in the past.

Sometimes, I think I hate myself for it:
Falling in love at eighteen.
Now stuck in the Present,
Did I mean anything?

Was it good to pass the time?
Was it your reason or rhyme?
Was I your chapter sublime?
Girl, I know you were mine.