I’m scared for the future
Like honey dripping from the comb
I only see in front of me and I’m scooping, scooping
I’m ready, I turn away and back
And now it’s all collapsed

Every so often I suddenly posses the eyes of a being outside my comprehension
And I slam back to wakefulness, yet never less dreaming than before
Madness, madness

I’ve seen my grain of sand sliding
Closer to the free fall of the hourglass
And now I can’t remember anything
But the misty dread of eyes
Staring and waiting