Well it’s close to home by plot or block.
I hate the bad and I hate the not.
This loss of a life is killing me, Affecting un-expectantly.
But what’s one more? Yeah, let me go.
Let me suffer nice and slow.
The pack is watching patiently.
Stand in line to wait and see.
But that’s the problem seeing it coming.
Does nothing till it comes.
We’re deaf until the heavens are beating the drums.
And it’s too late, too late,
And I don’t know when it turned into fate.
Unavoidable, so I better get prepared.
It’s too late, I’ll take ignorance over being so scared.
I’m not coming out of this box,
Till everyone’s forgotten me.
This ought to be a welcome vacation.
I’m not coming out of this box,
Till everyone’s forgotten me.
My thoughts will be secluded elations.
I’m starting to lose track,
Of who’s alive and who has passed.
On and on and on and who is here and who is gone?
That’s the problem seeing it coming,
Does nothing till it comes.
We’re deaf until the heavens are beating the drums.
If anyone here wants to DIE, give it a shot you should try.