What will become of me? Will this highly anticipated fortune Ever knock on my door? Or will it knock me out? What will become of me? Will i be able to look back on life And not shake as i do now? Of fear fueled by this clock ticking out… Will i overcome the tides And meet these expectations? Or am i just swimming against them, On a burial plot? These are the minutes that define me And they're running out, Getting shorter as we speak As we speak…