Times move fast in futility...
what do you have to show for your efforts?
Periods of suffering and misused utility,
learning to hear what blind eyes see--
when mine are inside, inside,
I carry them inside.

rivers carry sediments...
sediments—they go, they go,
change plays in short lived strides;
waters ripple, waters flow...
but mine are inside, inside,
I carry them inside.

you wear them pinned to your chest,
displayed in selfish pride.
what do you have to show for your efforts?
When mine are inside, inside,
I carry them inside.

what, to you, are your trinkets?
What power do they hold?
Empty, broken useless,
inside they’re just cold.
Without them you are nothing,
amongst them you will hide.
I don’t want them,
I don’t need them.
‘cause mine are inside, inside,
I carry them inside.