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Fear
It crosses lines
And lines the cross
Becoming empty space

Out in the still of the night
With the passerby
Standing in place
And nothing said

Set ailments to use
But there's a price to pay
I look forward to nostalgia
It keeps myself at bay

Fools to entertain
Each way I'm screwed
So I'll just humor you

But still
I'd like not to speak
Just to save my breath
For my dying wish
Still nothing said

Busy on the moon where nothing grows
Happy in the place where no one goes

Bottle on its side
I've nothing new to say
I look forward to nostalgia
It keeps myself at bay
A sparkling new cliché

And my whole life's cliché