Run from where, choose a turn. Spider webs spun for clues. Deep in scars. Who's to say these are final quotes? It's hard to believe this room is so silent, and from where I stand, my high seems so low. How do you turn grief into love, fading away, breathing in hurt spoken in gray, waiting for change. Broken whens or what could be lost in forever consumes me quietly. Deep in scars. Some compare this mood to light dust. Subtle, but there it moves despite love. From where I stand, my highs seem so low. How do you turn grief into love, fading away, breathing in hurt spoken in gray, waiting for change.