Year 1 was lots of fun, but nothing lasts forever in my dreams. Year 2, I followed you because you knew the way it was so it seemed. Year 3, I still believed that we would be becoming destiny. And 4, I wanted more, but you were moving on to better things. At 25, and still alive, much longer than expected for a man. At 25, all hope has died, and the glass of my intentions turns to sand and shatters in my hand. 5 to 6, a lie, a kiss, the secrets that were served we'd never say. Skip to 8, we called it fate, to live to let us die another day. At 9, I saw the signs reflected in the barrel of a gun. And 10, we're here again, those who let me burn up in the sun. At 25, and still alive, much longer than expected for a man. At 25, all hope has died, and the glass of my intentions turns to sand and shatters in my hand. Shatters in my hand. From 11, 12, I held the future in my grasp. And all through my teens, I screamed, I may not live much past. 21, 2, 3, 4, 21, 2, 3, 4, 21, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4. At 25, and still alive, much longer than expected for a man. At 25, all hope has died, and the glass of my intentions, the glass of my intentions, the glass of my intentions turns to sand and shatters in my hand. Shatters in my hand. In my hand. In my hand.