Pain Is Not Wat You

The Repeated Lies Become History, But They Don't Necessarily Become The Truth.

This Is Not My Life. These Are Not My Cobwebs. This Is Not The Darkness I Was Designed For.

You Can Count The Dead, But You Can't Count The Cost. We've Got No Math For Heaven.

And I Suddenly Think, As I Look Across The Table At Him, That These Are The Days As They Will Be. This Is The Future As We See It. The Swerve And The Static. The Confidence And The Doubt.

The Person We Know At First, She Thinks, Is Not The One We Know At Last.