Held back by a half a mind's concern. You can only bury this urge so long, and calls

deserve response. So when a message is just a man with no abstraction to hide behind, rip

through full force.

The pain is worth it. The panic you feel, you'll control. The strain from comfort, the churn

in your soul is honorable.

Enough. These are the limits you're learning. Enough. Or is it worthiness' yearning?

Get away, run. It's enough to drown a voice. That internal noise - for just one minute, it

yells and the moment's passed. Once in a while there's a pause. It's not much, but it's enough.

In that gap, there's enough: There's a shot if you're not terrified to move through.

With the car down the sights of a fledgeling fawn - the chamber in hoof, the trigger

pulled. The tire explodes and it skids off road. Headlights blink out.

These are the limits they're learning - too much, too late. The lordly magistrate can only

force so much before we burst out, before we raze this town. Startled but relieved how much

they're willing to concede once they're run down. Can we smoke them out? Outnumbered and

confounded - stupefied. Rout, joust, volley through all quarters while there's time to.

There's a shot if you try. You're not scared - you're terrified. But with a wound exposed,

the rest is prone to fold.

With wounded hooves ensnared, we will burst out: nervous and in doubt. So loud, the

verve of bluff we shout. Startled but relieved how much they're willing to concede once they're

run down. Let's just smoke them out.

Release is so much better. I just won't regret it. I'm just not regretting it. Now they won't

forget it. An act is better in view. The sun is setting, and soon. I just won't regret it. I just won't

regret it.

I just won't regret it. I'm just not regretting it. I just won't regret it. Now they won't forget.