See the cemetery sky,
Carmine red and deep.
Watch the oceans rising high,
It's the human stain.

Talk about the growing hunger,
Ask why with deep concern,
Don't you think,
The human race is ceaselessly vain?

But it hurts to be alive, my friend.
In this silent tide, we're driftwood passing by.
Don't you wish you were a child again?
Just for a minute,
Just for a minute more.

Hear the ticking of a clock,
The sound of life itself.
No one really wants to die,
To save the world.

Tell me that you're torn asunder,
From how we fail to learn.
And tell me as the Earth goes under,
Where's your anger now?

So it hurts to be alive, my friend,
In this masquerade where all one day must die.
Don't you wish you were unborn again?
Just for a minute,
Just for a minute more.

Tic-toc,
The ticking that could tear us under,
The beating from a heart of stone,
The loss of your divine prosperity.

Cause it costs to be alive, my friend,
In this life that someone merely gave to you.
That's the price you pay,
Minute by minute,
You beg for a minute.

September 2008
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