Late night conversations lead to early morning revelations. And there's the familiar ache of trying to erase a past that just won't take. Reminders of who I used to be when I look at you; but all I see is who I want to be when you look back at me. Lovers in past lives, maybe this time we'll finally get it right. Torn between a guarantee and a possibility, but please listen to me when I say that I'm sorry that you have to repeat yourself continuously. Its only because I'm trying to memorize the sound of your voice give me directions, when I get lost in the color of your eyes. Won't you just tell me how to get to where we need to be.