Still I’m waiting, not forsaking words I once felt like debating
Fears I swallowed and dismissed for being far too pessimistic
Till the angels pierced the sky, their fury burning with the fire
Of a thousand suns at once, the walls of Jericho came falling down
We live our lives in boxes, with little glowing screens. We fill our blood with toxins, so we can deal with things. And sometimes, more than often, the bitter masks the taste. The fruitless failed reflection: what if it's all a waste?