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Dual: 9811

This doomsday clock, ticking in my heart.

You get mistaken for strangers by your own friends when you pass them by under the silvery silvery citibank lights.

You can be my head, oh I really need one.

One of these days I'm bound to choke.

Our threads of life are in the hands of god.

The disappointed disappear like they were never here.

What do I know?

To be honest, I really don't care.

I miss me, I miss everything I'll never be and on, and on.

I've seen a man killed by his best friend, and lives that were over before they were spent.