Tables of tide
Nothing is learned
So real tragedy
Love wasted
Up from the floor
Spirit one's more
final learning process falling down
You might scream,
You might shake
Could be a lonely mistake
And it's [bad word] we are through
This is the last stop for
Heaven or [bad word] 
How can we tell?
Or real dead collective
Lost perspective
Nothing is real
Nothing to feel
And when the pain consumes you
Death protect you
Down here...