...

tions... clambering for the scraps, in the shatter of us collapsed. it cuts me with every "could-have-been." pain on pain on play, repeating. with the back-up make-up life shift waiting. everybody says, that time heals everything. but what of the wretched hollow? the endless in-between? are we just going to wait it out...? there's nothing to see here now, turning the sign around, we're closed to the earth til further notice. clambering for the scraps, clambering in the light. we're closed to the earth til further... all-in-one, only one street-level miracle. i'll be an out-in-out, born-again from none more cynical. everybody says, that time heals everything. but what of the wretched hollow? the endless in-between? are we just going to wait it out...? ...and sit here cold? we could be long gone by then, and lackluster. and dust will layer on old magazines. fluorescent lighting sets the scene, for all we could and should be being, in the one life that we've got... everybody says, that time heals everything. but what of the wretched hollow? the endless in-between? are we just going to wait it out? just going to sweat it out? just going to sweat it out? wait it out.