PAST THE ROARING SHORE, I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO HEAR. I'M CHASING ALL THE WORDS, BUT EVERYTHING YOU SAY I ONLY SEE. BUT HONESTLY IT'S FINE, WHEN I MENTION HOW I LOVE YOU, IT'S ALL I DO, EVEN AS I STRAY. WE HAVE THE COLD TO KEEP, I'M NOT SURE I STILL BELIEVE. MY MOST IS NOTHING MORE, THAN A PLACE WE'VE BEEN BEFORE. WE'LL DRAW AND DRAG IT ON. I'M TELLING YOU I'M TRYING TO HEAR THIS OUT, I WANT NOTHING MORE TO DOUBT, A LITTLE BIT OF SHAME. WHICH OF YOURSELVES IS TRULY GONE? AND CHECKED OUT SO LONG, UNHINGED UNWOUND, COME HELP ME ON, TO LET LIE WHAT'S DONE, IN SOME GREAT BEYOND, YOU'RE STILL THERE STILL AS YOU WERE. AT THE END OF THE LINE, IT'S AS IF THERE'S NO TIME AT ALL. NOTHING TO LEFT TO WIN, EVERY PLEASURE BURNED TO THE WICK, CONTENT TO BE ALONE. A QUIET PICTURE DRAWN EACH DAY BEFORE IT ENDS, TO REMIND ME ONCE AGAIN, WHY I'M EVEN HERE. WHICH OF YOURSELVES IS TRULY GONE? CHECKED OUT SO LONG, UNHINGED UNWOUND, COME HELP ME ON, TO LET LIE WHAT'S DONE, IN SOME GREAT BEYOND, YOU'RE STILL THERE STILL AS YOU WERE.
