So this is what it's be like?
Everything bathed in a harsh bright light?
Things look slightly askew.
Surging emotions 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.
Now just flashes on the screen.
Why is the past so pristine?
Condolences are sputtered and meek.
But more at hand than the answers wee 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 because I worry it could have been me instead.
