I could feel eyes over me,
behind me,
above me.
Always watching,
waiting for me to trip.
And when I did they watched,
I suppose that is all prying eyes can do.
I called out, but there were no ears to hear,
just eyes, watching... observing.

Oh, prying eyes, don't you see,
this life just wasn't made for me.

A hand came down, filled with pills
and prying eyes just watched;
slowly prying eyes faded, and I conversed with my watch.
"Any moment now" I said and the moment came and spoke;
"I hear you're looking for a ride, young child, so come and follow me"

I followed into darkness, cold, without a clue.
Then the moment turned and said "someone wants a word with you"  
I turned and there you were, hardly 34,
a look of sorry smudged across your face, I knew exactly what for.

I told you of the prying eyes and the awful lack of sound.
I told you stories about loss of laughter and asked why you weren't around.

Times were hard and tears were rough, I found myself to be lost. Looking back down at my wrist, lost hours to my watch.

I found my mind and lost prying eyes but still I feel something above me. A rock balanced on my shoulders, but I never forget what he told me.