Roars of triumph echo
As the future stretches on.
We feel like we have time to ride,
This precious lifeline, on and on.

But already this triumph is weakened by time,
So close to the end but with little to gain,
We sit and reflect and reason and rhyme,
What shame on our shoulders makes timeless again.

Take me home but there is none.
Or let me watch as it tumbles on down.
And weep in the ashes of happiness
Of the joy that's destroyed that surrounds.

Or, in other words,
Fuck shit bollucks bollucks cunt shit wank wank wank.