| So this is what it be like?
|
| Everything bathed in a harsh bright light?
|
| Things look slightly askew
|
| Surging emotion obscures the view
|
| Reaching out for something to hold
|
| Slow motion realities starts to unfold
|
| It’s all strangely serene
|
| A white pulse made out of screams
|
| Life is so fleeting, why make it less?
|
| Endless potential, bottomless regret
|
| Why is the impact so immense?
|
| Maybe because I worry it could have been me instead
|
| One day soon we’ll catch up again
|
| Awkward words with forgotten friends
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| Now just flashes on the screen
|
| Why is the past so pristine?
|
| Condolences are sputtered and meek
|
| But more at hand than the answers we seek
|
| The floor drops out at the brink
|
| The brightest stars start to sink
|
| Life is so fleeting, why make it less?
|
| Endless potential, bottomless regret
|
| Why is the impact so immense?
|
| Maybe because I worry it could have been me instead
|
| It’s always on my conscience
|
| It all weighs on my conscience
|
| It all plays on the conscience
|
| Life is so fleeting, why make it less?
|
| Endless potential, bottomless regret
|
| Why is the impact so immense?
|
| Maybe I know it could have been me instead
|
| It’s always on my conscience
|
| It all weighs on my conscience
|
| It all plays on the conscience
|
| It’s always on my conscience
|
| It all weighs on my conscience
|
| It all plays on the conscience
|
| It’s always on my conscience
|
| It all weighs on my conscience
|
| It all plays on the conscience |