Tornado an owl

Take what you've got, take comfort, in that everything you know, or seen will soon be a non existent dot.
Who'll save the world that claims there is no saving? An illusion or delusion of grandeur. Half of what I
say is bliss, the other half is meaningless. Comfortable lines. Wating for the clock to heal us. Lost and
found, but neer touched. Another beating heart is lost: Interesting lies. Waiting for the clock to heal us.
Alone in our rooms, miserable, a tornado or an owl, come back and isolate the balance. Nothing is
real your heart on your sleeve, just another lie, transcend the pride, oh the chemicals. Take your time,
nothingness is something and something is nothing.