Mary goes on Sunday, Mari on fri,

My heart aches as my memory begins to fade.

Jonah next week, during his latest feat,

Jumping off a cliff,

yet he didn’t know that Terius would cut the lift,

before diving down after,

Crying out as he fell faster.

Save me from this mess, I once was so innocent,

Yet a few centuries anywhere, can make you wish for fresh air,

Going stir crazy within my head, as little old lady Maranda dies in her bed.

Get me out of this mess, before I learn to enjoy this.

As the world begins to fall, I make the call,

And I’m not sure if there are any morals left to save you all.