Intercepting I: XXV



You overslept, there's a new moon
shining light into your room
Your eyes are sore from the darkness
The race against time is useless

With the weight of decline on your back
Ain't no grace for the spine, all goes black

You need more time, so you make lies
Dismounting clocks is a weak try
The grains of sand flowing downward
destroying hope of a new start

With the weight of decline on your back
Ain't no grace for the spine, all goes black