JUNX

I don’t care
But you are doubtful of living on the trifling meaning

I don’t care a damn
What people who stick at nothing to think of breathing

I dread an invisible pursuer and a watch surprisingly
I fall apart as if my brain is forbidding me to recall

All my faults
I'm wondering it passes away
Stream of abuse
Can’t drown out with my hands
The march of time
If I can't turn the clock back
In the end
I may leave many deep scars on you

My reason crumbles into fraction

Dark clouds reflect dismay on me
Time after time

All my faults
I'm wondering it passes away
Stream of abuse
Can’t drown out with my hands
The march of time
If I can't turn the clock back
In the end
I may leave many deep scars on you