Life withers as the clo rolls by
Second by second gradually we die
Time is like a disease, slowly breaking us down
Time is a siness with no cure to be found
Time is an unstoppable power
Something that drains our life, hour by hour
Time is the knife driven in my side
Twisted and turned by the concept of genocide
Time is the parasite that sus us dry
Makes us oblivious to the fact that slowly we die
Our face grows meek at the concept of age
In the book of time, we are but a stain
Amounting to has-beens and nothing more
Time conquers all, and forever more
Time was here before and in the hereafter
The face of the clo laughs at us
The tiing sound reminding us that our end is coming
We hold symbols of death at our wrist, symbols of the forthcoming
The symbol of non existence
