Lyrics
If I could stop the hands of clock, I'd stab myself with it
If I could stop the hands of the clock, I'd stab myself with it
Time is a fucking thief whatever I do there's no exit
Time is a relentless thief; no matter what I do, there's no escape
I walk through a mud path
I walk through a challenging and messy path
Stuck into a futile journey
Stuck in a futile and purposeless journey
Prisoner of the hourglass
Metaphorically a prisoner of time, feeling trapped like sand slipping through an hourglass
Every day looks the same to me
Every day seems monotonous and indistinguishable
Set me free from pains of flesh
Yearning to be liberated from the physical pains
Wish I can see the end of men
Desire to witness the end of humanity or suffering
Existence is bleak if your face still on the floor
Life is bleak if one's dignity is compromised
No mercy for the weak, I won't help you anymore
No compassion for the weak, refusing to offer help anymore
When the streets are trenches
In difficult times, prioritize self-preservation
You better save yourself
Self-reliance is crucial when faced with adversity
If you lose your part
If you lose your place, everything falls apart
Everything is failed
All is lost if your role or purpose is compromised
I walk through a mud path
Reiteration of walking through a difficult and messy path
Stuck into a futile journey
Continued sense of being stuck in a purposeless journey
Prisoner of the hourglass
Re-emphasizing the feeling of being a prisoner of time
Every day looks the same
Every day appears repetitive and unchanging
Set me free from pains of flesh
Pleading to be freed from physical suffering
Wish I can see the end of men
Expressing a wish to witness the end of humanity
I'm waiting for my time like a mother giving birth
Awaiting a significant moment like a mother anticipating childbirth
My bones and skin are a jail that I buried in the earth
The body and skin are portrayed as a prison buried in the earth
The end of everything might be the true salvation
Suggesting that the end of everything could be true salvation
I need no purpose cause my life left me no option
Life has left no room for purpose; existence seems devoid of options
Set me free
Pleading again to be set free, perhaps from the struggles of existence
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