I would'nt go there.
For the time is short,
And I need to get elsewhere.
Oh! How I wish I was
The loyal prince who stayed.
If not for fourteen years,
A month and a half is fine.
They say It helps
To gather your thoughts,
And they say, not going
Might kill the grey ones upstairs.
As the needle ticks,
The material body pleads
And the mind's drifting away.
The guilty circle strikes again.
You're almost at the point,
Where you stop making sense.
You feel that you can go on,
But your eyes tell another tale.
What started up there,
Will make the curtains fall, and then,
A darkness beyond the light,
The Dreams, the journey and the spite.
What started tonight,
Shall end tomorrow,
But the journey is something,
You'd rather not recollect.
I leave thee here,
signing off fore' the fat one sings.
Shut the light for heavens sake,
- A wannabe in some knee ache.
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