"Time Bomb"

If you wanna make the move
then you better come in
it’s just the ability to reason
that wears so thin
living and dying and the stories that are true
secrets to a good life is knowing when you’re through

in tears come from the razor that’s been tattooed below
his eye his mother cries she knows that he is strong enough
to die he’s rollin’ in the cadillac it’s midnight sunroof is down
three shots rung out the herd’s deal
the new king is crowned.

~Rancid

Forks clanged, glasses banged into the oak dining table, and ketchup slid out of the plastic bottle, as Ash stared down at her runny pancakes, glancing slyly up at Dodger who’s mouth looked like a chipmunk during the pre-winter months, his cheeks exploding with eggs and pancake batter, one hand holding his orange juice, poised near his mouth, the other pressed up to his lips, seemingly attempting to keep whatever was in his mouth from exploding all over the table.

Her eyes headed towards Spencer who sat, slumped over her plate, her hands in her lap, a huge frown on her tired face, the creases shifting and arching in various angles as she watched the circus act that was unfolding before her.

Dodger was unaware of the silence his eating habits had caused; now focusing solely on pushing the food down his throat without vomiting. Satisfied he was in the clear, he chugged the juice, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and bobbed his head to some Def Leppard song circa 1989, that had filtered into his brain.

Looking away from his plate, he suddenly became aware of the four eyes that stared back at him widely. Not embarrassed in the slightest, he burped loudly, and then grinned.