Just one week π Seven measly days over in the blink of an eye π But oh how I know And you should beware: For every seven days Seven measly days Thereβs always six lurking nights Six long lonely nights. They might be nothing Or they could just be a dream They could be six parties π But they could be a prison With bars of sunshine π Where the hours stretch like melting wax And time plays her wicked tricks On the mind of a man.