the schools, the halls, the kids holding hands. the farewell shows are adding up, our trials are written down. this being angry and young, it doesn't mean what it used to mean. please don't test me, i'm not ready. it seems right when you're life's begun things change and your friends fade, telling time in bruises and broken bones. the children in pairs wrestling in the grass. and why, after so many broken hearts, are we so willing to give up on who we are?