at headlong pace i near the time
when present tense is past
when it arrives, what's left behind
anything that lasts
if a life is meaningless
where do we go from here
six feet deep into the ground
goldfish shed a tear
living death here on this earth
shun the hand above
without hope no depth of joy
is there love
at times i stop to think of men
whose names live on behind
when history looks back on me
it won't consider mine
reach and grasp and strive and clutch
hoard what's mine and beg for more
one false move, the game is up
it won't matter anymore
the vapor trail yet lingers
from the soaring track of time
passengers look back on where they've been
led by faceless no one
led to parts unknown
will you see me there
we work so hard to reach the day
we kiss goodbye the earth
all of this would be so sick
if not for second birth
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