What will become of me?
Will this highly anticipated fortune
Ever knock on my door?
Or will it knock me out?
What will become of me?
Will i be able to look back on life
And not shake as i do now?
Of fear fueled by this clock ticking out…
Will i overcome the tides
And meet these expectations?
Or am i just swimming against them,
On a burial plot?
These are the minutes that define me
And they're running out,
Getting shorter as we speak
As we speak…