Those Little Things Count In Your Final Drawer They Are Always Behind Of Something Smaller Something You Stashed Away You Think You're Going to Need It Someday Maybe's Why You Could Never Fly Away… But Your Mind Needs This But Your Soul With The Greed You Feed This. You Feed This Your Final Hour is Your Final Act Don't Go Away So Soon Ear Me Out You Are Here Now And I'm Not Here Now or Then Just Think about It, Please About The Things I've done Your Soul With The Greed You Feed This You'll Feed This…
