In lost times, look into the eyes of a tired heart.
Counting time is just a past time activity from part to part.
And flashing lights in the eyes of a sudden past,
Flash time headlines caught in the  pathways built to last.

Burning more fires to **** the atmosphere, my neighbor,
Chocking her airways just to smoke up a piece of pipe to get high enough as a favour.
Gas in the tank, topped it just to set fires to her children,
Killing the tree leaves with all my fires. Oh how much have I killed dem.

Killing season is just passing activities ,
Tearing the green ways just to be building more cities.

Depression, when they slashing the wildlife,
Slicing all their necks with broken pieces of a dark knife.
Add more wood to be burning fossil fuels, such a negativity
Killing our world just to satisfy you pleasures just became a positivity.

But still look into the eyes of a tired heart.

This be the few days of lost times,
Shielding your yourselves in the dark lies.