Shadows drip softly sometimes they fall away
Angels in the curtains living lofty lives alone
The lights and the glow flicker causing me to fade
Some things end up broken some time things end an age

We are the aggregate of us we are the empty chairs
The hollow looks transform in white boxes we despair
Words spoken only as whispers and the sun never seen
We bathe and sleep and die alone from our own lives we glean

And the comfort is infinite and the comfort is fine
But the scope is finite and the end of a timeline