 Getting older, and that's the thing I know the most. Aren't we all just smashed atoms and poached egg on toast? If you think about it, but maybe don't. Lost in the moment as the moment explodes. No more martyrs, no more ghosts. I promise I'll always be there when you need me the most. And maybe drifting apart is just slowly gliding back together. The long way round, anti-shortcut lazy river. Because what's six months in the space-time continuum? Lean on your nostalgia or move into the ambiguous.