To whom do I owe the pleasure?
To whom ever I choose.
To whom do I owe the time?
To the time keeper, tic toc tic toc.
The stage seeths with the emotion
of the players and yet, it is empty
waiting, waiting.

The life lived is especially precious,
the life given is gone.
To whom do we owe the pleasure?

Given in great numbers to gods and
goddesses, lives, none spared,
none redeemed. Who can know the truth?
Tic toc tic toc, the timekeeper
taps his watch.
Time to face your personal hell,
time, time.

And to this life, I do sing, glasses
raised all around. Bodies swaying, dancing.
The stage rises and the players fall
one by one leaving their mark soon forgotten.
No one puts flowers on their graves anymore.


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