fuck yur perception of tha clock
I'm no slave to tha sands of time
choices present themselves often
I live and die by these hands of mine
construction is rational for us
one more day comes and I'm lonely
I give with everything I have
just in case there is a one and only
slowly I try to build some support
maybe I'm wrong about tha laughter
u won't see me tear myself apart
but I will have tha peace after
everything seems metaphoricly sick
I'm subject to something that used to matter
I finally see through this world of glass
I'll be broken long before it shatters
something is wrong, but we keep going
reality is what we make it, it's almost phony
I can't make society understand my view
wonder what would happen if it got to no me