There's roses still in a prettily painted vase
sitting on my desk wilting away as they
cling to summer memories long gone.

After all summer came to her end
months ago when winter claims the lands
and froze the crashing waves as they
stood at sea waiting on us to return

once more.

Locked boxes fill the room each one
with something dead inside trying
to live again in the nostalgia tainted heart
of the collective soul you call "God".

And everybody needs you, no matter
what they say, I'm still pleading Time
to take me away. But when I get my wish
when Winter finally wins, I need you to
promise me one last thing,

Signs will be flashing and people will be
calling your name day after day and
all will say the same three words. Ignore them.

The exit is this way.