Not to say its getting better Nor to forge a complain But my days grow short upon the weather And there are whispers of your name... So you open the door While I sleep on the moors For you... I'm Living life On borrowed time I carry the weight of an age... The well's run dry Belly sucked to spine So I drink from the world in your hands... From your hands... My souls a song of seven verses Each repeats without refraining All was tired, and it only worsens But now I've become my own second coming... My eyes are a meadow To see my soul weep like the willow For you... I'm Living life On borrowed time I carry the weight of an age... The well's run dry Bell sucked to spine So I drink from the world in your hands... From your hands... Here on me... Waiting for you... Time is gone for thee... So I wait here for you... But wait... Wait... The mockingbird call to me... I said wait... Wait A fallen star fell to me... I said wait... Wait Its fruit from a poisonous tree.