On memory کے بول

There's something beautiful In the reopening of these wounds. So I ask you. Was it all worthwhile? And maybe time has worn this skin To a weathered useless shell It's so whorthwhile It's so wright As we run this page begins to tear away And we run as out minds sift through reality. This page breaks away yes it falls away in particles. So we run, so we run (so we cultivate what makes us whole) And we run, and we run (into products that feel tangible) As he folds the page (he can't concentrate) Can we fold the page? He's not rational As his mind explodes into patters unthinkable So he separated. So I relied on something I could hide (as you fall away time escapes you, barely hold it down)