It is just this working life

In the dream, into the jaws of death, it pushed 
tibia, I was 
fighting titanium, 
and I felt a strange odor 
deadly tree. 

Ken afraid of the shadows, 
and quickly turn back, 
sees behind him 
the ghost of the skull, as well as 
solid bone. 

Mad Gloss sight, 
increased by Gnarl, as callus. 
Find cells victuals. 
Then came the doctors, 
the wise women, men. 

Caressed, experimented with 
shook, ran. 
They said they will soon cut off, 
is placed in the pathological 
pieces of the package. 

Waiting for results, 
whether cytotoxic agents, 
radiation therapy, or is it sufficient 
the healing breath.

This was all, 
only one time a noise gear. 
Waiting for now, until the 
Time for a moment twirl, 
it is just this working life.