It's a mystery. will our hands take shape before we say it's history? a useless moment? "breakfast please"; the only thing that saves this childhood that we need from this moment on. today's the day. the swing does not sway with nothing on it's cherry trees that we need. these pumpkin seeds; filled with life before we took our knives and did them in. we did them in. on these long-stone driveways, we find cases, cold rims, heartache of mind. from this moment on, until the day the blue skies fall, until our breath is small, until the last call we say this to you: "forget the months remember you, I, us and all those happy highs and those said goodbyes" it's all on my mind.