..and off they went
those who'd spend time, those who grabbed  hold off and held onto the lifeline, but
in the palm of a hand where mountains begin, grow and turn back into sand
a lifeline
means nothing.

If I sink so be it, I shall hear the soft calls of the siren instead of voices so full of **** as to make Bethlem seem normal.

I have wasted much time drinking dregs with  bald beggars, supping cider beside human waste and now I taste fresh air, for the first time I'm aware just how strong strong can be.

This bond that you're so fond of is but the link that links into the way that you think and you think that you know it all.  
You may hold all the cards in your hand but the next call or the next time is mine.