i can never fill impossible spaces i wander in time passing up possible mazes i know we never get to fully enjoy settling in stone marbles in the concrete places why would i save it for a morning after some kind of anti matter why would i save it for the morning after incased in glass unshattered you and i create those plausible spaces scaring ourselves flashlights under our faces i know well always come fully passing ourselves setting up possible mazes why would i save it for the morning after some kind of anti matter how would i save it for the morning after incased in glass unshattered theres a line on your face has no meaning at all until you fall makes mornings of days when the windows can never be too small