All the words are void for fractured eyes;
You don’t have to die to remember why you’re living.
Re-adjust your line.
Fortune’s autograph looping through the winter.

Here you go again,
Thinking that it matters.
Here you go again.

Hesitation cries for all he’s lost.
Gently waves a hand at sad imaginations.
A creaking, creased-up night.
Fold your blue around, stay hidden from his line of sight.

Here you go again,
Thinking that it matters.
Here you go again.

Many fell today for nothingness.
Many rose to find the sky a little wider.
I sent it just in time:
Looking upward now, you hear every vesper.

All that we are.
All we could be.
All that we are.