we cling to the past . polishing our memories . as if they were true
the flowers briefly . light up the catalpa tree . wile its past lingers
when seen through the lens . of the future, the past seems . nostalgic fiction
hiding in shadows . the future pretends to be . less clear than the past
time that has gone by . is a page that has been torn . from the calendar
it doesn’t make sense . to try to revive something . when its time has passed
killing the future . will not repair the present . nor bring back the past
the moment, once gone . is already forgotten . as it really was
looking to the past . it’s easy to be convinced . we see the future
the fog slowly lifts . and though things are different . we’re still who we were
uptown jack 