shrugging it off

steady on this lost conclusion
missing peices done in fusion
all the time they're waiting wondering
what could have been done only missing
seperate conclusions drifting off
missing sections messaged lost
wanting something new done old
and in the past it can't be bold
starting new tensions, only made
the king sits in his steeple-chair
and makes it clear what he does
with himself and through himself
wanting new and old forgotten
starting off we now are lost in
old rememberances done up new
and who knew, we could have done
darker parts to these we've done
wanting new what old we've sung
problems continuing made in dust
echoing empty because we lost
passing fragments left for those
who really care and what they do
made real, made raw, made new
functional constructions are not my thing
and so it goes and so we sing
the things we do as we wait
passing time by the great watch
and what we've done made old
questions wondering at the capacity
of what we've done