What We Do

Stuck on a ride on a number 8 Running against time, always late. Masquerading ourselves, putting up a show Searching for a halo, the holy glow. Tying loose ends, building a story Making music out of What's Your Morning Glory. We live a million years in a day We die in a second to nobody's dismay. Love is found & momentarily lost You care & they hurt at no one's cost. At the end of the day it's a face known & a lesson learnt The journey matters till you lose your breath & your existence burnt. Scars are formed without a knife It's called The Circle of Life.