Lyrics:
His face is youngHis hands are oldThe past is emptyBlind and coldAll the sweatOn his backGrabs the dirtIt stains his shirtPush all dayHe rests at nightDo some hobbiesDrink to forget[Spoken during verses]A ton of sand at my feetEach a speck in a spaceAll collecting in a massPressure changing it's shape, it's direction, it's purposeAs the sea tears it away from the landMore is pushed backEach differentEach separateAll has changed and nothing has changedWhen the momentum stops, the machine will dieFor some reason we're not alone