Breton - Population Density

I found the stacks of clothes
And form the catalyst that slow
You down eventually
I've greeted most of those
And punch the numbers in that seem
To make most sense to me

I voiced in call signs
Made up some small crimes
That [?] of numbers of you
Circling around me [?]
The more my hands wave
The more the long days
Turn into something I could Barely be a part from once for all

Let's work this out for you
And see if anything you know can be of use
I'm kicking both of you
And of anything of yours

Stay on top of it
Cast the end of it
They still wait for us
Their gaps are infinite

There's hope for us