The CruxThe death. Remember that? If you learn anything 
from this:
Death is the end of consciousness. We hold our breath for 
what?
For our lives? If you know anything: life is a mockery of 
what we hoped to be.
Youre still not saying anything.
Were still not saying anything.
I'll try not to waste your time, but time's another way 
to make me fall in line.
High time to set this straight. Come on, you distantly 
distracted baby.
Come on; don't let it be the same. You knew that this 
would happen, and you're not saying anything
It's been a rough year; forgetting everything we said,
Hundreds of promises that were only half kept.
Out-stretched, we found what we could never leave.
Out of the stale, white noise: the answer to the crux.
I'll turn the other way, a degree of some success
Of being far away when I feel your breath tonight.