Is there any free choice in a life? Are we on one way train tracks? Living on a predetermined route, Unaware of the fundamental facts.
Everything is going round, Like the echoes of a sound, In concentric circles made, By traveling in a cascade,
Protons, electrons and higgs bosons, We are all made up of pure stardust, Chemicals reacting every millisecond, Natural forces under our skin’s crust.
Like you know me you think, I don’t need to make sure, What you’re giving me is right, You just overthink some more.
The last thing I want to do is hurt you, As I walked through the open door, But the machete in my hand is heavy, then you’re lying on the cold floor,
The images of quiet city streets speak, Of cold and snowy scenes far to bleak, No midwinter wonderland of many sales, No excitedly placed footprints left in trails,
A simple ribbon of ink between two points, Or a brand new idea succinctly made, A line in the sand between two enemies, Stamped into history which won’t fade.
Trapped in a virtual frame Buffering our online game Skype your face time tool Zooming to lockdown rule
Two years connected by a single second,
A uniquely ordinary tick of times clock,
The new dawn after the year of sorrow,
A page turned on the sound of the tock.
The seat belt locked across my braced chest,
Pulling me into the safety of the head rest,
The noise of the impact reverberated around,
Echoing from old CD cases windscreen bound,
Part Dalek 