Lifless skies and empty thoughts, I'm burning daylight
in crowded rooms, just when did I stop living and settle
for existing, craving color and taste to breath life
back through my veins.
I've felt it before so I know it's real,
not just a self revolving want, are there instructions or rules,
can it be made from scratch, or do you get it from someone else,
books amuse but dont fulfil, backyard labs can make a week fly-by,
but good times had are chemically withdrawn.
So I might just have to put some faith in this heart shaped clock
that resides in my chest, apparently treasures of a thousand fairytales lie within,...if only you can find the key
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