He met his fate in a burning inn With a loaded gun pointed at his shins Took one step forward an another two backwards Time meant nothing kept getting fractured 1800-MORETIME is who he called Wasted time, stuck on hold It's just ringing Time is ticking You've been waiting Hang up, pick up, hold the line... It's just black and white Translucent and opaque Upside-down and backwards Hands felt like his feet Standing in a seat Upside-down and backwards Elevator with endless floors Looking out through four glass walls Went six floors up and another ten downwards How it feels to be a timeless coward 1800-MORETIME is who he called Living life stuck on hold It's just ringing Time is ticking You've been waiting Hang up, pick up, hold the line It's just black and white Translucent and opaque Upside-down and backwards Hands felt like his feet Standing in a seat Upside-down and backwards Oceans without waves A corpse without a grave Upside-down and backwards A bullet with no gun Nowhere left to run Upside-down and backwards