Where do minutes of the past
go when the hands of clocks have passed?
You ask “are you troubled much?”
I say “it’s like when we were young”
Write your last paragraph
Memories of life
Oh oh oh, oh oh oh
Oh oh
I’ve resolved not to insist
On whether I can weather this
Winter aged us like the paint
That gathers by the window pane
This song is found on:
The Otherly Opus | Their Variables