Everything is numbers,
all these six-six-sixes and sevens
And our writing patterns just keep happening in elevens
Seven billion people stand alone on this earth
But none of us matter, we're all a dearth

And a two stands right before a comma
And it's followed by a four and then two fives
And that number makes up the amount of miles I have to drive
In order for me to still remain alive
These numbers make up all the reasons I thrive

Two people stand on one planet
Taking the things that they both hold for granted
Ten trillion stars get entrapped in their eyes
As they both stare at once to the dark, midnight skies

Twenty eight teeth smile falsely, for the flash
As the truth breaks into four perfect piles of ash
Each one holds a story, too graphic to tell
The secrets are kept in a giant, cracked bell