What if this is borrowed time?
I had none to call mine
Had too many hours
in the waiting rooms of life

Maybe I had none to call mine
None that I could grasp
for years and years of silence
with peaks in the dark
filling peaks of light

But what about the little explosions
everything coming alive
What about the ******, the blossom
Sitting is not motion!
what about coming together for once
What about the smile in your face?
Because if this is not my time
then whose is? tell me, what?
What is this I had?

Am I living borrowed time
Am I made to pine, to pine, to pine?