The sirens are screaming again while my heavy optics audience enough, as all the soundboard people rush through to find an in, an end, or a steady suplement. Words like smoke floating through the heads of all those unknown. Where Are you? No, Where am I. Where Am I, when all her holy hell's and demon's sell their shimmering smiles, and the distant distance between two hearts seems too far. My stomach is a coward, My head a stone, and my heart a balloon.