Waiting Room

We're Barely living, but not quite dead
A vicarious life of existential dread
We Inherit the cost of generational debt
No promises made, no promises kept
The futures bleak
I'm afraid of what's to come
No escaping the hands of time
Nowhere to run

This story has no sequel
No good, no evil
It's too late to turn back now
We walk a path under gathering clouds
The more I learn, the less I know
Head first into oblivion
But Ignorance is bliss
Foot to the fucking floor until the end of the road