The number five, to you does it matter?
When you have but five days to live, your whole world
seems to shatter.
The cancer is spreading, and your body gets weak,
the whole world just seems so dull, and so bleak.
To you, it's just a number, but to me, it is fate,
and all I can do is just sit here and wait.
I had a whole life ahead of me, one that's carefully
But all that changed; my body they scanned.
One little tumor, to a catastrophical size it had
Now, I see the Grim Reaper; my body he will soon own.
What would you do if you had run out of time?
Would you fix up your messes? Get your problems in
I am sitting, for death I wait.
To you, it's just a number, but to me it is fate