It's the dying gasps of summer that make me think of you and I,
What we were, what we are, and why.
What is it about anger that's so hard to let go?
Seems that time is required for everything I need to know.
I'm a trip without a destination.
A jumbled mess of indecision and hesitation.
Its this simmering summer heat that makes me think.
Am I to be another fogotten youth seeking solace in a drink?
Sitting in a bar drowning sorrows I've never had.
Watching life race past my window pretending that I'm sad.
I found you in every place I'd never look.
With you caution is another lesson that never took.
Theres that feeling again, you can feel it in the breeze.
It's the kind of feeling that might bring your whole world to its knees.
It's in my head now, it will spend the whole night there.
I could fight it, but it'd be like fighting empty air.
There's this sense of loss I just can't shake.
It keeps me up all night and is with me when I wake.
Loss of something in the deepest part of me.
I need something back so desperately.
Like a step that should be, but isn't.
I am trapped in this self made prison.
All my words are gone, like snow in the heat.
Every attempt is broken and incomplete.
It used to be easy solace in these melodies.
Now only the stretching silence of memories.
It's winter now, all is dead or dying.
Hope is just a bridge I keep buying.
Stoically you stay though things look grim.
Silently you wait to see if I'll sink or swim.
I have become too abstract and static.
A slow, slow build to the anticlimatic.
Even dark and uncertain as it may seem.
I know I need you and everything you mean.
It's the creeping hint of spring that make me thing of you and I.
What we will be, what we've become, and why.
What is it about love that's just impossible to know?
Seems that time is all we need to grow.