soon as you leave me alone, i can see the hours for what they are, minutes that stretch and drag, bruising their knuckles on quiet eyes. i can start to say, that if we cleared all this away, we would have this place. if these fingers could drip through, unclasp the weight that hordes us, we could leave it to the light. but we only have ourselves, and we only have a handful of songs. music was meant to stop the war, friends are meant to stand alongside, but this place, this place is... i remain small, i will remain here.