[Verse 1] There's a line in this conversation, there's a page I had to find. There's a picture made for singing, not a window into time. I can put them near each other; I should not call them the same. One is here, and one was written, one is how I frame a phrase. [Chorus] This is the part I can tell, not the whole of where we've been. I can leave an honest opening where the record's wearing thin. Not every missing detail needs a story to conceal. This is the part I can tell; let the limits travel with it. [Verse 2] The page can say a thing was finished; that isn't every test. A name upon an older folder doesn't settle all the rest. I can follow where it points me, check the work that's present now. Keep the distance from the source inside the way I say it out loud. [Chorus] This is the part I can tell, not the whole of where we've been. I can leave an honest opening where the record's wearing thin. Not every missing detail needs a story to conceal. This is the part I can tell; let the limits travel with it. [Bridge] You returning through a summary, don't make its voice your eyes. Keep what it can really carry, leave the rest unidentified. There is work enough before you without furnishing a missing life. [Final Chorus] This is the part I can tell, and a place to check my words. Keep the newly found correction beside the older thing you heard. An unfinished piece of history can still help the next reply. This is the part I can tell; I won't fill the gap with certainty. [Outro] Here is where I found it. Here is what remains unclear.
