You can wash your hands but the ever filth won’t wash off.
Seeing death for the first time is a lot like popping your cherry.
The ones afterward are felt less and far more forgettable.
As life goes on you’ll become slowly number to it,
and it even is harder to grow shocked by.
I saw one paralyzed and trying to desperately grasp for air,
And another tangled in wreckage she was just 28.
The rest are simply more of a distant haze,
but yet those people are now forever gone just the same.
Strangers, family, or friends simply become ****** to memory.
All of us only have a one-way ticket so just enjoy the ride.
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
You can wash your hands but the ever filth won’t wash off.
Seeing death for the first time is a lot like popping your cherry.
The ones afterward are felt less and far more forgettable.
As life goes on you’ll become slowly number to it,
and it even is harder to grow shocked by.
I saw one paralyzed and trying to desperately grasp for air,
And another tangled in wreckage she was just 28.
The rest are simply more of a distant haze,
but yet those people are now forever gone just the same.
Strangers, family, or friends simply become ****** to memory.
All of us only have a one-way ticket so just enjoy the ride.