Facing what is ahead, move the clock forward, it’s the end,
no more time to waste, no future lies for my faith.
Turncoats, passé, like old clothes,
Thrown aside, replaced, extinguished,
only two paths lie ahead, give in, or take out,
My blood asks for more of its own, whilst my heart says no more.
Maybe I should wait, ride it out, despite the pain,
So few reasons to walk the same places,
even less now with new faces,
Maybe this is a sign, my time is almost up,
maybe it’s a sign, someone needs to go…