And now we understand that things fall through when they're held together with duct tape and glue. So before we dare to prove, yeah, before we make a move, we enter surrender and we are counting on you. This place is a dark cold mess, miles of piles covered in wrecks of excess. And the carpet's worn right through. The cracks are all showing, just know we're counting on you. We're pointing hands at ceilings now in desperate belief. Our attics are collecting the requests for our relief. Divining rods are leading thirsty hands to dig until they bleed and faithfully hide the fear inside 'til they bury everything. The calendar has Xs on almost every single day, but it's at least a few years old now anyway. There's one for every time we tried and failed to never lose, each one a reminder that we are counting on you. This road leads to nothing less than calling for rescue from our self-made distress. And before the day is through, our conviction is showing. You know we're counting on you. We are all terrified to live this life alone. But when light starts to die will we have made it our own? I've got a map and a note you made that says where to go. I've got a lifetime of failure says I can't get there alone. I kicked that map in the river, I'll find a better way home. I'll take my own way home.
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