How many pages have I wasted Writing down all the feelings I never said? Once all the ink has been faded There is one line left there, an empty space
While using wild flowers as our bookmarks And rolling down the hill on the bikes we found alone outside Building bricks into towers That are torn down as they fade from our sight
We ran up the hill that looked on down to the morning sea The sky so bright, the blue almost frightening My right hand held cider to cool down the heat While the left hand was reaching out to you
I’m sure the future will come towards us Giving the answers to unasked questions Although, you’re by my side I’m feeling lonely Almost wanting to cry And beg for time to go back so we can meet again Am I crazy or lost?