Sound the alarm; there's been a breach
Brush on the shoulder in the hall
Turn bright pale, briskly recoil
Start the car, I've got to go
Back to the comfort of my home
Let the snowfall seal me inside
Snowy weather, days blend together
Wake up and I'm three years through
Growing older, nothing to show for
Holing up inside my room
I've got an island in my coat
For me to wrap my hand around
When their reach exceeds my comfort
One firm grasp and I will be
Sitting on the beach with Stephen King
As the Langoliers devour me
Sunny weather, days bleed together
Wake up and I'm four years through
Growing older nothing to show for
Staring at a perfect view
Sunny weather, days bleed together
Wake up and I'm five years through
Growing older, nothing to show for
Stagnant feelings; nothing new
Every passing month
Writes a story of
Sunburnt skin and canceled distress calls
I think I know what happens next
I think I know what happens next