Man, breathing but still as stone,
Watches time slip like sand through his fingers,
What else can he do but smile in this fog of fleeting moments?
Here we stand, on this strange, spinning earth,
...
𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘
Sitting on a hill
With my friend Bill
...