Sunday, December 14, 2008

With Love, From Me To You


What ever did become of the likely lads?
What became of the dreams they had?
What happened to forever?
We'll never know.


Those kites we flew together,
I thought they'd fly forever.
Why won't it fly?
Time flies,
time dies.
You're not what you own,
you're not alone.
We weren't alone.
by this point in the studio time...
now i'll take it it's better for you
somehow we'll make it cause that's what we do
these things tell us how we fit with each other
even if we don't know how we fit anywhere else.
escapade.
this will linger, i'm almost sure of it.
you were right,
it lingers.
linger.
such a good word.
it means:
1. to remain or stay on in a place longer than is usual or expected, as if from reluctance to leave
2. to dwell in contemplation, thought, or enjoyment
3. to remain alive; continue or persist, although gradually dying, ceasing, disappearing




i like the last one the best. don't you agree?

2 comments:

planned confusion said...

i love this.

"TIME FLIES, TIME DIES!"

whicksho.
<33

Ariad said...

Linger on...I love this poem.