The bold projections in your head
Make deep impressions in my bed
And all the great plans that you made
Are faded glories on a windswept plain
And brown-lit sunsets that make you cry
Will wipe that plaster from under your eye
The world to come can start anew
But legacies die and so will you
The camps are growing, the jails are full
The crowd moves onwards, it's starting to pull
Your tower crumbles into the sea
And mice climb down to mingle with me
And clocks tick backwards, the seconds limp
To listen loudly as the record skips
This pretty picture is sublime
I wish i could view it all the time