In the end there's always a folder full of pictures
you are never going to open ever again.
Songs that slowly vanish into daily routine
with words that have lost track of who
they're written for. Dreams resting under
the carpet but at least no longer aching to
become reality.
And you know, there always is a past,
we chose to burn down to the ground.
And so is a future,
in which a past like that
never even did exist.
No comments:
Post a Comment