This is a photograph, how you looked before we met
You quote the paragraph I read to you, but now forget
"What did you come here for?
No one can see, nobody cares
Who weeps for anyone?
Pursue your lives in different pairs"
I thought to throw away momentos of our better days
to make it easier to cope nowday's malaise in here
This is the fairest way to split it
You can keep the picture book, but I'll retain the vision
Our path a narrow cut, ironically, the right of way
roots need a place to grow
split the pavement, block your way
I tripped and fell away, recovered slowly with the soul
The echo would not decay
No comfort in the open hole
Way laid, I held you up, I dawdle never to erupt
You must agree with me your pleasure was the scenery
This is the fairest way to split it
You can keep your picture book, but I'll retain my vision
The wait, the lake, the wake, I'm late
again, pretend, my friend, we'll end
our deal, this way, and say, how we feel
although, we know, how it goes, when we say
This is the fairest way to split it
You can keep your picture book, but I'll retain my vision
Like any photograph, see back in time so easily
I wrote a paragraph on what I think, but never see.
Like any photograph, a way to look at what it meant
I wrote a paragraph on what I see, but never sent