My eyes are starting to adjust.
Slowly opening, as the light of unfamiliarity evolves into a familiar dark.
And my ears,
they jump to the sound of new conversation.
Quiche talking elders with lost words, soon to find a new home.
You could say we're getting on with our lives,
as we're getting older and our hair is getting shorter.
Moving on as I stay behind.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
My eyes are starting to adjust.
Slowly opening, as the light of unfamiliarity evolves into a familiar dark.
And my ears,
they jump to the sound of new conversation.
Quiche talking elders with lost words, soon to find a new home.
You could say we're getting on with our lives,
as we're getting older and our hair is getting shorter.
Moving on as I stay behind.
