and the days pass by, like a nudist parade
You try to grab a sight with your diseased eye,
and they walk on, quick, indifferent, like the flow of life.

You stand in the balcony, thinking whether to jump
but you never do, and when you actually do
the doctors ask you, "What were you thinking?"

And you keep shrinking, as the days pass
and your body grows on, unaware of the mind
aware of life in it and of death pouring in at nights

The world around you seems to have it all figured out,

And what’s really scary is that it seems to have a plan

For you too.