Too much time at hand
To see my life unravel.

Although I travel eyes to ground,
I seem to get around quite sound.

So it seems my life's a Monet,
Money killed me in a way.

Chimeras cannot fill my belly,
Soon my soul must get to selling.

Govern oceans with the moon,
Until our axis turns with death

Gravity will leak its pressure
As lonely lovers live as lepers.