The way once was.

That very idea appears

To be a broken promise

The living sincerity folds its tears

Beneath that of the grey mist

Brought by the infectious thunder

Not rock stone and scissors game

The gain on life youth brought hunger

Walls finger painted not the same

It runs more than against the tide

Where the waters build dry a requiem 

While the sky’s watched the wind ride

The ship to pass to carry on to oblivion 

Your other self in reborn to journey 

Last all through spring night and day

In deceit bearing fruit in another sea

The light in passing asteroids way

Bring another’s darken space not free

Chance of greater reflection deaths ebb

Mass directions to escape plummets reason 

The count in true numbers become a web

Century in fear becoming smaller seasons

Must break the will way of social ends.