When the clock strikes the hour one can only hope for a chance to look back at the end of their rope.
So much has been lost and so little gained.
We've fallen too far to disguise our shame.

The sand in the hourglass making the call.
At the end of each day you won't matter at all.
As the leaves start to turn; as your skin starts to age.
As the air's growing cold with the turn of each page.

I know that the end can't be very far.
I can feel the wind pass as it blows through my heart.

The sand in the hourglass making the call.
At the end of each day you won't matter at all.
As the leaves start to turn; as your skin starts to age.
As the air's growing cold with the turn of each page.

The glass starts to turn with the last drop of sand.
Delivering a message so you'll understand, the raven appears.
Watch it soar through the sky.
With dark wings come dark words.
When is your time to die?

When is your time to die?
Blue skies turn grey.
Forks in the road will lead you astray.
Flowers whither away, picture perfect melt like a painting in the rain.

So who am I?
Revolving 'round destruction and without a reason why.
What will I leave behind, deceiving those who love me in a twisted web of lies?
So who am I?
Revolving 'round destruction, and without a reason why.
What will I leave behind, without a flower on my grave and no one left to say goodbye?

When my body starts to rot and vultures feast on my remains.

When the clock strikes the hour one can only hope for a chance to look back at the end of their rope.
So much has been lost and so little gained.
We've fallen too far to disguise our shame.

The sand in the hourglass making the call.
At the end of each day you won't matter at all.
As the leaves start to turn; as your skin starts to age.
As the air's growing cold with the turn of each page.

I know that the end can't be very far.
I can feel the wind pass as it blows through my heart.

The sand in the hourglass making the call.
At the end of each day you won't matter at all.
As the leaves start to turn; as your skin starts to age.
As the air's growing cold with the turn of each page.

The glass starts to turn with the last drop of sand.
Delivering a message so you'll understand, the raven appears.
Watch it soar through the sky.
With dark wings come dark words.
When is your time to die?