Tekster: Ride. Decay.

We have short time to stay,
Our night is slipping far away.
Caught up within bad memories,
Our growth seems certain to decay.

Now this feeling's so alive,
But, as you or anything, we die.
We die.

Let's stay here for a while,
Eyes so round and bright we gently smile.
Live for the moment, not the past.
Why do we always fall so fast?