Jun 22, 2008
the light breaks through to rip this sky apart
and we run so fast to forget we even had to start
we fall like trees, begging to become the pages of history
but this life never becomes any less of a mystery
sometimes the easiest thing is to just give up this fight
than to let them keep telling us we will never be right
strip us bare to cover your uncountable fare
and once you've collected the souls, its on you to make the repairs
put whats left of them in a mountain-top museum
charge for the waste of an experience to see them
the clouds have faded and all but diminished
and this relay comes to an inevitably hasty finish