Sifting through 3 years 8 months and a handful of dust like shadows falling through a matrix of "wish I hads" And it's much harder to see how much space was taken when your chest pounds with the footsteps of those you've forsaken its a shame isn't it The way these hours spin out of control and how the tighter your grip on the why and the how insures a faster demise to a here and a now There's no strength in numbers is the one thing I've found and you can't trust your balance until you've walked with your feet on the ground