Life is a bomb;
Only the hands who crafted it know when it will blow.
Tick… Tick… Tick…

The fuse is continuously burning
Burning, sizzling, shortening.
No one can delay it;
Days, weeks, months, pass by.


Here’s a year,
There’s ten more.
When will death open the door?

Don’t just wait there letting time churn,
Step back, turn around, it’s not your turn.
Do something before your time is up
And pray for help; he’ll fill up your cup.

How you will spend your time,
Is something that only you can decide.
So hurry up before it’s too late.
‘Cause you never know when he’ll open the gate.

Select your path
Make a choice.
What the seamstress sews
Determines where she’ll go.

Now the creator says the fuse is too short,
It is time to enter into judgment day’s court.
Which door will open is not for your choosing
But the one who made the bomb begin fusing.