Trapped in routines,
Sun is dead, it rises and sets,
Nothing else, the day is left alone,
So as stars in the night, lonely,
Dying days, we're paying the price,
Man has no history but only grief,
Scalding memory, all fictious,
Better be with empty sky,
Or be busy counting waves,
Dream while awake and
Live in sleep, hate those repeat,
Love or perish, no time to waste,
Life is so fleeting.