As the years pass
And memories grow old
The less and the less I know
And I like to be certain
And swear my life on things
But the story is never how I thought
It would be
It only leads me to discovering
The truth behind my path
Less like a means to an end
And more like a story I wrote by accident
The crumbling keeps happening over
And over again
And it\'s never comfortable nor covenient
But it is something I promise myself to understand