Take what you've got, take comfort,

in that everything you know, or seen

will soon be a non existent dot.

Who'll save the world that claims there is no saving?

An illusion or delusion of grandeur.

Half of what I say is bliss,

the other half is meaningless.

Comfortable lines.

Wating for the clock to heal us.

Lost and found, but neer touched.

Another beating heart is lost:

Interesting lies.

Waiting for the clock to heal us.

Alone in our rooms, miserable, a tornado or an owl,

come back and isolate the balance.

Nothing is real;

your heart on your sleeve, just another lie,

transcend the pride, oh the chemicals.

Take your time,

nothingness is something

and something is nothing.