Remind me again that for all its shame and drudgery — the ruined dreams and the battered hearts — this world we live in still retains a beauty, though pale and elusive. It’s for us to shine through, to watch the morning sun rise once more, once more.
No one dreams and no one speaks of starting things over anew. A new leaf is only in reach for the few.
Now the grey grows, fearing feelings and thoughts. (It doesn’t matter to me, it doesn’t matter to me.) And like the river flows, it’s unrelenting and bleak. All that our scars show is where we’ve gone and have been. (It doesn’t matter to me, it doesn’t matter.) When all is said and done, we have these tokens to keep and remind us of the things that we could never achieve.
And no one speaks of starting things over anew. A new leaf is within reach of anyone willing to forget what they thought they knew.
We keep filling these pages with contents of lost and found. I was left with no love for life, with no affection and I had thought redemption was nothing but a lie.
‘Cause no one speaks of starting things over anew. But a new leaf is within reach of anyone willing to forgive the actions and forget the words and abandon the past and let go of what they thought they knew.