The Descent

Right across lives a man

All pale white in worn out suits

Crooked spine a haunted face

Since the fall there's no sleep

A slow decay of what used to be

Worth remembering worth to save

When comes the time to give in

To give up to hold your breath

In his dreams of late

There were no solid ground

A thousand waves in black and blue

A hundred storms all came and went

He was just all about

To write it down and to keep track

When lightning struck such irony

So hit me, so hit me again