Cross the Line

I'll smash the clock,

you grap the chalk.

We'll sit on the sidewalk.

Quiet, no time for talk.

Draw a line between us;

then we rebel.

Take my hand,

we'll cross this line and go to hell.

We're here now,

or maybe not.

The sky cleared up,

and it's not even hot.

We're the ones higher.

It's just you and me.

Finally escaped those liars;

finally we're free.

Wished for motion;

got it with that coin and that well.

We're burning with passion,

not burning in hell.