I hear myself talking but the words aren\'t mine,
and I see myself walking in the sands of time.
So clouded I am so shrouded with doubt,
I\'m crowded within and can\'t even shout.
I\'m slippin through time and sliddin through space,
am I losin my mind or losin my grace.
A collection of moments stir in the wind,
even right now is a memory within.
I talk to my ghost as it walks with the dead,
and it plants these words that rant in my head.
I\'m slippin through time in the ripples in space
each thought that I find is so out of place.
As the ghost of my past swims the abyss,
it swims in the shade through seams of a kiss.
This whispering wind is escaping my lips,
in the eye of the hour glass sand just slips.
One grain at a time they fall into place,
each grain is a ripple slippin through space.
The space it inhabbits is trapped in my mind,
I found myself walking in the sands of time.