Take what you've got, take comfort,
in that everything you know, or seen
will soon be a non existent dot.

Who'll save the world that claims there is no saving?
An illusion or delusion of grandeur.

Half of what I say is bliss,
the other half is meaningless.
Comfortable lines.
Wating for the clock to heal us.
Lost and found, but neer touched.
Another beating heart is lost:
Interesting lies.
Waiting for the clock to heal us.

Alone in our rooms, miserable, a tornado or an owl,
come back and isolate the balance.
Nothing is real;
your heart on your sleeve, just another lie,
transcend the pride, oh the chemicals.
Take your time,

nothingness is something
and something is nothing.