If the walls had eyes, they could tell the story of our lives. Tell the tales of desperation and of our damnation. These walls have seen us at our best and at our worst. They could tell us about the tests and could pay homage to our thirst. These walls have seen us grow. These walls have seen us fall. When the alcohol is dried up and our lives have moved on these walls will remain. To tell the stories of our campaign to another reign.