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.