warning: does not rhyme.

time slips through our hands like sand, we can't stop it from escaping our grasp

we know it's limited I think we've always known                                                                                                    
that's why we try so hard to be happy.                                                                                                                         we try to be liked, we give love and hope for some in return                                                                             
we fear what seems like danger, some fear heights cause they're scared of falling                                
  It all comes down to, we don't want to run out of time                                                                                      
  cause if we don't have time, what do we have?