The closest thing I could imagine As prime seating To a great nothing Is a seat In that old apartment Or in Manhattan With Makayla laughing And what you see Don't you think it's perfect Until it's pouring And the rains all atoms And we can't wait to see what shapes they take And they form a dancer And we see it flirting And from the void everything we knows left in its wake There's no stories And no need for answers Instead I know Nothing's from nothing It has reason Though unconvincing Like the beams Of sun through blinds seeped In like a killer And it drags me From a sleep To see I missed you calling And how you almost died there And it was you who did it How many times can it be a mistake Oh to meet the dancer And see them flirting Into the void everything we make left in our wake All that's left are stories And no chance for answers