Take the time to make this last, look at the world, and watch it crash.
Take me there, to watch the show, in the end, we’ll quietly go.
We walk in silence, walk in noise.
Perfection is a faded choice.
There’s nothing left but us, beautiful creature.
Maybe we will find the brighter future.
Until then, let’s not say a word.
You can’t say anything I haven’t already heard.
Maybe in the next world, you will speak new words.
And fly with the toxic, colored birds.