I hear about his face
Being burned.
I hear spokane played
make belive with
The true meaning
of recovery.
Are they all playing
with syringes and
needles so sharp
You could weeve
the strings into
Linnens and
portraits of your
friends disapearing
from every hill
You lied about painting.
Over and over we all
waited at the end
of the tunnel.  until
the last train gave us
the message.  "hes on his own now"
I know they all tried.  
But now they will wait
For him anticipating the sounds
Of bells ringing a cadence saying
" hes somewhere else now"
They ask his mother
" wheres evan"
Even if she doesnt know
Where he is anymore.
Shell drum up half of
The true answer
Simply saying
The words
"I dont know"
"I dont know"