I sold my soul

I sold my soul.

My sentence is a 9 to 5, with my dreams on the wall

as a motivational poster that will never come.

I sold my soul.

All I wanted was freedom,

I ended up in a backyard

with a hill painted on the picket fence.

Thought all my dreams would've come true.

Never thought I would be just another tale that never was.

I sold my soul and the currency was time.

Time that I would never see back.

Time.

Time.

Ti...

Tick.

Tick.

Tick like the bomb wrapped around all the could-have-beens.

Time.

I sold my soul into what I thought would give me time.

At a moment when I was far away from knowing what I was doing.

Now my sentence is a 9 to 5.

And the spoon I use for my tunnel are dreams that are getting tumbstones instead of headlines.

Signed away my life with a small print too small to read.

I sold my soul.

No shinning armour can get it back.

Now here's to a reduced sentence for all the crosses I have left behind.

Time.

Time.

Ti...

Tick.

Tick.

Gone.