::10:15:07::

::: Once :::

He takes his medicine, and calls it his disease;
scratches his head so his face will feel at ease;
thought his crowded world could make his pain go dead.
He'll never be able to get that one feeling, once more, once again.
Submerged in light, can't find where he once rushed his soul;
used to fight fast, now he cries that his face got old.
I once knew a man named Richard P. Anderson.
Who left his life alone so he could feel alive, once more, once again.

Written by: ~ Daniel Moore