All our memories have become, the tall tales we tell of.   All the secret nights of sacrifice where the floods became our fight.   And the pools became our open seas as our flesh transformed to fit the scene.      *And with our heads held high, we think we're ready for flight...*   And I know that all you read about, see about, all you read about is how I need to change.(again)      All these answers are just the questions without the markings at the end,   as all their solid lines were left behind to be etched upon my skin.   Now as the ink seeps into my veins, it's to much to explain, and it's just to late to begin.