Would that I have peered?
Into a wounded face
Had they’re pleas been understood?
Or left them without a trace

What is it that he questions?
Nothing that which you may hide
For the time bomb yet unleashed
Lives within everyone’s mere mind

The chord in which he dances
Methodical at best
Shreds you to the core
Tearing the heart out of your chest

Don't answer his simple questions
With vague answer or a lie
For he will ask again the same of you
On the night in which you die!

Copyright © 1999 Lace. All rights reserved.
Revised: December 30, 1999