Ive been out running my sentance
ive been running on borrowed time
the debt collector at the door,
my soul is his once more
i cant talk my way this time
i cant fkaunt my way out this night
i cant convince myself to try
to make a brake for it
his lantern lit, an amber glow,
his face hooded so as to avoid recognition
his intentions simple and clear;
its time for me to go, that much i already know.
