your six minutes of depression have past   the life you lived behind the mask was brought up at a meeting last night   nothing left to worry about the truth sneaks up on you sometime   your forever engagement with in your four walls is out   so i guess its fate      past times of contradicting are done   dispose of your ideas that were ment to cripple me   your next 6 minutes will be the last time to take in the refreshing breate of freedom   your secrets out      you never won that trophy    but bravo you might have just one another derogatory title   it happened once same on you but now twice shame on me   water rolls down your window to show what your future holds   dark wet and cold      so i guess your 6 minutes of depression are just starting   did they ever end?   or is it an ongoing matter?   reaccurence?      360 seconds, baste in your misery