Uncertainty demands attention like a middle child, and narrows focus like a bone saw. It is the cocoon from which the truth emerges, and once the pattern upon the wings is unveiled, it transcends our childish concepts of control and becomes something that simply is. We can only accept it and return to the fray, like the soldier whose sweetheart stopped writing.

Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings, edited by SixThreeTimes

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