From whatever, to your own soul (and light inside)
You fadely glimmed, over the cigarette in your lips
looking up at him

hopeless, faithless, staring at God with-in.
The star ended like it would
The stairs were higher now
The stare lifted a little bit
And an extra letter was added on

Type of a "B" he never cared about consequences


Looking at the floor
Studying the electronics
A microphone (two), some electro-gear, a lot of speakers, and high-end cables
Not one monster in sight

Smart screen, no monitors
Well-shielded, and three types of blade ready to sacrifice.
I looked at the bed
And thought about her eyes
She looked so sad
I thought, in a state of grace,
Then a cable on the floor looked high quality
Then a speaker looked nicer than it should be
Then a computer never gleemed less than it now gleems
And I didn't feel so bad
I knew, thank God, for the devices, look at all the things I have.

The ground was clean,
The air was good and thin.
He kept his clothes nice,
And he was lying in his bed.
Feeling no ounce of regret,
Only "some" if you want.