From ceiling to floor, there are windows of glass.
So slowly, time does pass.
Time does pass so slow.
There is nowhere to go.
They all seem to blend.
There are no friends.
Are people going anywhere, No.
They care.
They are where?
There's silence.
A silence that screams so loud.
Does anybody here.
There is fear
Time stands still. There is not a thrill.
Windows of glass from ceiling to floor,
Them, nobody does ignore.
They look out.
Light does shine in
Feelings inside, they hide.
They want to scream. They want to shout.
They don't know what it's about.

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