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A scrapbook on my lap. |
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A soft head on my shoulder. |
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Behind loose plastic pages are some fading photographs |
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Peculiar fashion styles |
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In the corner there's a baby |
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Behind the infant smile is a heart |
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I recognize. |
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What was I doing then? |
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Learning to take some steps. |
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Then walking through adolescence some thousand miles away. |
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And up in heaven |
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God called a meeting. |
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And in the space that was next to mine he chose to write your name. |
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I never understood our weather here. |
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Or how together life and death must dance. |
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But I'll forever be most baffled by the subtle glances from who |
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I landed. |
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What are the chances... |
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There's the place where the story about us started and took the stage. |
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It's been so many days. |
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And now the bricks are starting to crack. |
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Feels a little weird looking back because some things have changed, some things have died, but somehow you've stayed the same all this time... |
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I never understood our weather here. |
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Or how together life and death must dance. |
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But I'll forever be most baffled by the subtle glances from who |
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I landed. |
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What are the chances... |
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Some will say that it goes away. |
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I will run and chase it down through that rolling thunder and rain. |
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I will risk my sails and all this boat to be in that storm. |
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Either way |
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I am going to stay. |
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Though the waves will try to pull me away... |
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Either way |
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I am going to stay. |
