Another hour, another hour,
another hour to go,
another hour, another hour,
another hour to go,

yet the day before left me screaming from the windowsill,
begging for any piece of uniformed trash you threw my way.
throwing anything i could get my hands on with your name on it,
letting them break against any car that swerved to miss you.

but the day after will have me locked into a chair,
fearing for whatever may come next but not hoping for anything.
not expecting a miracle, but requesting one for the sake of it
until they pulled the switch and i slid between the chains.

Another hour, another hour,
another hour to go,
another hour, another hour,
another hour to go,

the day before i found your footprint on the windowsill,
which made me angrier then ever at your carelessness