Why is time such a precious commodity
Is it because there’s finite supply a for everybody
The second’s tick by and death draws nearer
And this thing called life gets a little bit clearer
See every person says they would never sell there soul
Your souls is made up from the memories it holds
When you are done with life what will you’r soul derive
Just a remembrance of working form nine to five?
The time you spend with your family and the ones u love
Should be remembered and cherished far above
Whatever it is you do with the rest of your time
But I want you to know why I designed this rhyme
My only porous was to make you realize
Your selling your soul one hour at a time