| the bum says to call it memories and i'm trying to find a song to call my own through the tracks of your memories and the tracks of my tears i suppose desire is growing daily it's a little like degrees it's the oppisite for the weather cause the leaves have fallen from the trees and i'm dying from always writing this ten thousand different ways when and i gonna come to realize it was just that the timing was wrong i don't know how many times you've half dialed my phone and i don't know how many times i've half-crossed the line this season has held onto our reservations for far too long when am i gonna come to realize there's always time to right wrongs and i was so wrong... |