We listened to that song like it was our only solitude,
Though my only solitude was your voice
The way you belted out the lyrics like a protest
And made sense to those that didn't understand.
Would you know how many times I've tried
But failed always to listen to that song.
My solitude has become a mirage
Or a dream not quite forgotten.
Were you here and not in a pit
Would those words be sung again.
For now I'll let it be as it is:
The sketchy record to a broken memory,
And a time in which our lives were living.
You are a dream in which I'm still dreaming,
So carry on and carry on.