[Intro]:
Time is cruel and cold. It is no forgiving thing. Time, as we know, is an abstract concept made by humans that keeps the world in order. It doesn't bend to any rule and does what it wants. When you die, when I die, time does not stop. But rather the days keep moving until you are forgotten. Life can only be measured in time. Experiences mean nothing as we all share them through different perspectives. We, however, do not all share the same time. There is only past, present, and future. But what happens when time stops? When there is nothing to measure, nothing to count, nothing to wait for...?
[I: pajuxy]
Sitting on a big comfy couch waiting for the clock to spin
On a whim, stretch my hands and legs, but never an objective truth
A deteriorating imagination, which is much to my chagrin
Goosebumps on my skin, when I realize I've lost my youth
I can deduce with the proof that I am no longer uncouth
Experience over age, either way the mind is the highest power
Instantly I pursue the mind's crime like a sleuth
Eerily in the darkness of it all, I've already met my hour
The winter air turns colder as I climb to the top of the highest tower
And if I'm pushed off I could only hope I land near a safe haven
Until winter falls or the leaves burn, enemies can only shiver or cower
Either way we only saved by third eye visions of crows and ravens
Up till now we've been building up the contents of reason
For now the time has stopped regardless of any season