Mr. apathy, please try to realize
This is not the life your former self wished for you
To reside. always organization,
Always a set sequence
But no guarantee you've began to find yourself
Or even begin to live,
Rich pocket, poor soul, this is what we're aiming for.

A lifetime of shadows projected on a wall to see
Does not give you the slightest taste of truth
Nor true reality. fixed obligations and set paths
Are stepping blocks not concrete walls.
But if it gives me release and energy
Then I'd gladly follow along
Cause now the only things we'll hold onto
Will be sad excuses for memories.
If only emotion could be captured in time.

Arms crossed we search for something more
We aim, eyes closed, but there is no purpose
Screams of "hold on, hold on, hold on"
Are muffled out.
That second hand must've been on too loud
Because these hours fly by like minutes now
Even the blood coming up from my screaming lungs
Succumbs to evaporation
But I can still breathe in.
And I think this hearts beating.
There must be a reason.