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Mar 2011
We used to dance to the sounds of our youth
but I haven't heard that song in a while and
it seems that I have forgotten all the moves.

We used to roll our car windows down until they
no longer existed and we would sing loud enough for
the wind to hear, as if the wind could even hear at all.

We used to walk the red clay trail leading to the
convenient store. We'd push each other round in
tiny metal carts and play our childish games to the
sound of elevator music.

But now the store is no longer open for business,
and those tiny metal carts have been placed
somewhere else. The car windows are resting
in a motor infested park and the wind has blown
our echoes away.

A time not too long ago but long enough to allow things to change.
The memories still exist and the songs still published but that moment in time will never come back.
It seems so strange that you used to know me like all the words
to your favorite Bob Dylan song because now you have a new song for a new friend.
And now I stand years away from you with those dusty songs that you haven't listened to in years thinking about the things we used to do.
Written by
Sarah Johnson
   --- and Michael DeVoe
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