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.