Remember it well because it matters to me.
That bridge that runs over it is longer than we thought.
Our hands must reach farther for our fingers to touch.
Look down again our puddle is now a sea.
Created by tears brought on by me.
What curious country lies on the other side?
Where the land burns and the sky never cries.
I have been blamed for sticking the knife in deep.
These are things I will remember, the pain I will always keep.
Remember times of cool summer nights,
Of counting stars, us, without a fight.
As I cross I wonder if the bridge ever ends,
When I get there, will I have you as a friend?
Remember that puddle and remember those days,
�I will be there for you,� is all I can say.