Time - GRIM Naukograd

I worked it out with myself — a damn psychologist!

You sell face, but haven't sold out to anyone yet.

Time tick-tock, we were scattered in different directions.

I know you're as upset as a dusty guitar in the corner of the room.

Time can't be stopped! Trite, but true.

They look superficially, I look corrosive.

I move to the beat, I appreciate what is dear to me.

Faith in a fist, only worthy ones in touch.