The page isn’t blank anymore
And it’s corners are bent
It’s turned from bright white to yellow
But it’s readable still

Someone, somewhere
Someone was made for you

Someone, somewhere
Someone believes in you 
But maybe they’re dead

Here, at the end of all things
Our packed bags have no use
All that we brought to this place
Had been [bad word] us down

But the mountains have moved
And the earth has stopped spinning
The river ran deep
But now it’s half-empty

You are you own savior