You can not choose the weather. Nor the way the day's unfold. You can not pick out the sunsets colors, Or soften the winters cold. You can not change the things you've said, Or the way that you have cried. You can not make time answer to you, For it rides it's own tide. You can not choose to forget those you've loved. Nor can you make someone love you more, You can not pick and choose your experiences, Or go back to the person you were before. There is so little you can control in this world, So very few things we can completely control. And the thing that I find so incredibly sad, Is that the things we can, we blow.