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"There is always somebody ready to be lured to ruin by hope of gain" - Sophocles
Face to face with the s-bend, head to head with every near end. Ill swap an error for an inch. Surely your forcefield has an off-switch. I keep my flags at half mast, but that doesent mean i think that time has passed. Because history repeats. Dint you recieve the call? It appears the gravel broke my fall. The engine burns and tyre marks tattooed your name across my heart. They tried to tell you of the crash in the hope that you might bring me back. But you went home and the machine would only beep one continuous tone. So the message never reached your ear. I guess I picked the wrong day, wrong week, wrong month, wrong year to try it on. You didnt kill me you cannot kill me. Because you cannot kill whats already dead. Remember that day? We shared my eulogy; Too close to seprate. And in ten years time our friends will still word associate our names. But you made it clear that I picked the wrong day, wrong week, wrong month, wrong year to try it on. And until you lift that lid and pull me from my grave, wrong day, wrong week, wrong month, wrong year. And I feel short changed.



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