Clocks

I’m trapped in my own little world of nostalgia, it’s painful to see the time fly from the clocks on the walls, I don’t care to stick around to see the end
I can’t escape this being inside me, Im trapped in my solitude. I can’t fight for what’s not there, I’m fighting for the light

You can’t see what I’m really like, there’s no me, just an idea. I’m abstraction, I’m not real, there’s no feeling to feel at all. Nothing inside of me but my heart, end of all my life to see. Nothing to be, but me. Isn’t it so plain to see

When I go, I go all the way. I’m like a machine, not breathing, alive, won't die, can’t cry. Some day, I want be in that sky. I had a dream last night about the time that we were friends, cut off loose ends, make amends. The end is just around the bend

Find a way to make your pick, find your way around the world on your own, in the cold, all alone. In my own universe. Some where in the silence you’ll find your fear and courage, find your message, learn the lessons. The stories of ones before lost, to golden history. Let it be, don’t forget me