It's called common sense
You're supposed to know,
and not be on the fence,
when the wind blows...

... you're gonna be whisked away
you should wear a weighted vest
You're disappearing, will be gone by may
If the gun shoots, do your best

Your senses fade to black
Sight, touch, only within an earshot
Your poker face has a crack
keep your mind taught.

There's a million ways this could go
but with your common sense you're supposed to know
When you try to speak not even a squeak escapes your lips
your life is one among many small blips.