Snippets of the Past.

Blast the surface,

so it's more than just a scratch.

Create a canvas,

something to expand upon.

How much time is left

for us to spend? To waste?

Is effort even an option?

There's a sound in the air,

carrying through the wind,

try to shut my eyes,

and pretend, pretend..

that the season has changed.

Walk away,

your mind's just playing a trick

on you.

Wrapped up

and I'm not the one you should be turning to.

You've made quite the sound,

turned millions of people's lives around.

Don't become a victim of

the continuous fall, all the way down.