I walked alone on the old beaten trail
To go to the place where I now regale
Of a time when we would just set sails
To a fantasy we called our lives.

It was all so perfect, it was all just right
But the fragility of perfection was evident
When the reflection of this drab boring creation
We made was put in the light.

It was all so surreal when the mirror of our so called
Perfect life was shattered and no matter how much you try
you'll never piece it back together.
So I travel through the beaten paths that lie in my head
To the place that is now only a mere fantasy.