I think of dreams, I think of lies,
I think of moments, I despise.
I sometimes know, what will come thru,
I once thought, but now I do.
I asked for time and nothing less.
It gave me lies, it gave me bliss.
It showed me how, the road must go,
It gave me tools, to make it so.
Why do we play, this crooked game?
Why do we slay, this endless fame?
I ask of you now, your hand to give.
So we could leave and never "live".