Drifting through unknown time,
With the help of twisted clocks.
Living off of twisted dime,
When they see circles he sees blocks.

He knows no face to match the names,
Recalls no title of the passing image.
All his days are only games,
Insanity behind blind minds scrimmage.

His past remains so far behind,
Fading with the setting sun.
His future is kept out of mind,
A present seen by no one.