this delay is what you gave me but that was fine cause I would rather wait than go down that road the road I know so well like mud or quicksand I was stuck but now I'm in your hand is it getting cold I could try to move it more are we getting old I don't notice anymore and what about the bones hidden in a box if everything I owned turned this into rocks is this getting close I could try to move it more are we going home I can't stay here anymore and how long will this go until it changes how long before you know that I love you and how long til it goes and turns to nothing