Is it morning?
Isn't morning coming along?
I could tell you that it's over but I'm nervous that I am wrong.
Is it morning or am I all alone?
I placed my trust in the end, but the page is a silhouette.
With pleasure and pain, are they one of the same?
I do wanna die, just not today.
This fortress can't be shaken, but I saw it crumble just hours ago.
There is beauty in the desert if you're looking.
Is it morning?
I'm all alone.
And I can't tell yet if I'm dead, with the body just moving along.
I can't make you understand, but the blankest of the pages still wage war.
Is it morning in the unknown?
I can tell you in the morning, but it'll kill you long before.
You gotta have patience.
Is it morning yet?