Time as everything
just seems to run away from us

and what we do is
what we did

when no one was looking
through our fingers

there in the street
killing for money

and there in the front
for just the same

kissing the lips of roses
for a whiteness of dawn

it is perhaps a destination
which leads masses to starvation

and when the time comes
(it is always coming fast or slow)

we'll dig a grave for the world
tombstone named ‘us all’

then we’ll cover our eyes
pretending to be deaf too

as ones that lived without the time
into the grave we fall