...for everything Night fell on me writing this And I ran out of paper So I crossed the name out At the top of the page Not sure why I'm even writing this But I guess it feels right It sort of feels like I have to Like an exorcism I guess that makes me sound crazy But that's alright Lately I feel like I might be Not that I've heard any voices or anything Just like that everyday kind Where you forget things you shouldn't And you think too much about d**h Maybe you know what I'm talking about? Or maybe you would have known? Or had known? Is it once knew? I don't know what tense to use I know I never used to feel like this I used to never think of d**h or hear voices I used to feel like everything was perfectly in order A normal life, but I guess then came a departure That I know you understand Or would've understood I guess things changed after that And I'm mostly scared now But it's there in the stories Or whatever they are You can see it Anybody could, if they could look I wrote some notes in the Margins explaining it The rest is in between lines Or in the fine print First, the feeling of abandonment Then trying to cope Then d**h and hope and the thing itself Waiting for me It's all there in the pages Ahead of here It's there, waiting for you Or for me; I'm not sure The whole story For everything For everything