When haunted by time
No one forgets
How did I get here?
What were the steps?
How will I get out?
There must be ways
With time to think
For endless days
And I reckon I'm dead to you
And do echoes exist
From the bottom of a bottomless pit?
Of what would they consist?
What transmission would they transmit?
And I reckon I'm dead to you
So go on, forsake it
You know you don't belong
It's not how long you make it
But how you make it long
And I reckon I'm dead to you
Will I gain from your protection?
Will I hold my office with re-election?
Will one of my inventions come back
To meet its creator?