The world is getting smaller
Fading chimes and rhyme
My heart burned into cinders
I'm eaten by the time

Hopes are no longer brighter
I'm starting to get old
One more month of October
Years are becoming gold

Slumbering as a tamed beast
Like an infinite loop
With suffer from some disease
Uttered by a tight whoop

Still ain't got a difference
Stakes are high and grounded
I must not lose some defense
This rain can't strike me dead

The treasure map is ready
Their eyes have drops of spring
The box maybe brought already
But I'm not set for dying