It's almost true: You don't expect to follow, watching 
what you do. I talked my way, half the night in 
overdrive, with nowhere else to stay: afternoons spent 
inside crashing on the shadows in the room, wrapped in 
your reigns. Gone along, you won't forget who's standing 
out of frame.

Kick and run:
It doesn't fall far from the road and someone's going to 

Shake it out:
Remember what you'd wanted from the embers floating down.

Aren't you cold?

Standing by my window (curtained up and closed) 
yesterday. I let the door fly open, broken just the same. 
It's all so new, though I've known you from somewhere I 
was only falling through. Save your time, coming out with 
what you've found on the other side.