Time Flies

Time flies, I'm watching myself with my third eye

Spying lies that fester and rise with the cursed tides

Overtaken by urges that surge when it would really hurt

sitting dirty sitting Inert, questioning my worth

Sit and wait for the second comings arrival

Morality's a compass, but sitting in front is something primal

Behind the bibles a hand that swears, and wears a title

False disciples ensnared

Fearing the idol's where it differs between each preacher with God's reach

Splinter in the finger that touched, but supposed to teach

Inner lies what winners pry and sinners drive by

And men will cry