No clock will ever calm me It has slowed to a stop
and my sick, demeanor facade has all but washed off
And as for your plans of premature depravation
A song sung twice too many times and the first time was insulting
But join me at any time
A small cry to die is what you pray you heard
While you did seek comfort I will never let you ripe
Rinsing feelings adhere to you You scrub yourself skinless
And no pity is birthless But you bite the end chunks
In droves you come alone Constraining Constraint Entrust
And no plannning For I am the journey

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