Panic is really a rhythmic thing you see,
Baton's tap on music table in hours wee.
Walks in being a pauper, would you agree?
Grey clouds shroud the blue skies of glee.
Time, ah fast it runs away, life's a grass's sway.
Dreams leave me forlorn, for a moment stay!
So many standing with better stories in the fray,
Masks won't fall off the tray, where's that day?