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