Ticking Bomb

On me Thereâ??s a button Theyâ??ve ticket the goods, Theyâ??ve labeled the luggage. They sent me here, To a sterile, white Waiting room. Not only I know I contain a ticking bomb. They say The word. They know The word is the code. He oughta handle it. Oh, I explode into pieces. Do I care? My dismal lifework. Who am I? What have I done? Iâ??ve lost my self again. Iâ??ve punished the good, The innocent, my beloved, My liberator, my savior. I know the situation. I realize my deeds. Blowing off the bomb Was lengthening Way out of hell. Now who am I Deserving mercy now. Done is done. Perhaps I need Another bomb. --- Ticking Bomb - Hanne Hukkelberg