|
I don't remember much of anything |
|
Of those years, |
|
Kind of strange and kind of sad |
|
Considering all the laughs |
|
and all the tears. |
|
Could it be this quiet cul-de-sac |
|
Or the cynical moon? |
|
Could it be the neighbor's cat watching |
|
Me from the living room? |
|
Either way, these days I feel so strange. |
|
I remember you; so strange. |
|
Do you remember me secretly? |
|
So I comb the depths of the ocean floor |
|
Of my memory; grasping onto some |
|
Shell, some piece some evidence |
|
Of you and me: |
|
Sunlight streams in morning |
|
Your head in the sheets |
|
Dancing naked in the living room |
|
(I still practice secretly). |
|
I remember you secretly. |
|
Do you remember me secretly? |
|
I remember you secretly. |
|
Do you remember me secretly? |
|
You're a mile away |
|
On your island, so close |
|
Doing who knows what |
|
With who-knows-who |
|
Haphazard lovers don't |
|
Seem to drown out your tune |
|
It goes for me anyway |
|
I don't know about you. |
