Deathrace With Dimension 4

As I watch this clock ticking the seconds of my life away. 
As I watch myself selling my life out.
As I walk these streets of this city closed within dirty 
walls.
The cold wind dries the passion of my heart, and I barely 
feel alive.
And I feel paralyzed by this damn thing called "growing 
up". What once was life is nothing more than a couple of 
stolen seconds.
Do I really want this?
Should this really be the direction
I'm heading for?
This senseless deathrace with dimension four.
If only once, someone would stop this rain, what would be 
here to wash my sins away.
If only once I could stop the monotonous tick-tock of this 
clock that counts the moments of my life down.
If again I could escape from the circle of this 
"responsible life".
I'd fucking swear I'll steal everything back, what this 
glossy fake half-life did take from me.
I'd fucking swear I'll put blood back in my starving heart