No one wants to be the bearer,
But the future's there to face
Each calendar date,
Each book we read
Is a path we have to trace.
Every phone call I avoided
was just leading up to this:
a broken clock,
a taxi cab,
a flickering sign over a bar.
A clock ticking,
A stopwatch ticking faster,
Fleeting happiness before the crash.
T-minus fifty
Good news, bad news,
I'm not ready for this.