How I missed the sand beneath my feet
Waves crashing in the background
These sights
They can't be beat
Look out the window
The moonlight shore
Something about this place
Has me wanting more
There is nothing stopping you, Grace
We have so much here to live for

While standing behind the espresso machine, another latte on the way, a wrinkled man walked his dog in the neighborhood nearby, shuffling across the fallen leaves, following the path that he and his love discovered all those years ago, approaching the bench, that overlooked a pond, the man whispered to the dog, what a great evening for a cup of coffee.

Oh
      you know he,
                             he is not me
Oh
      you know he,
                             he is not me
You
       cannot have love,
                                       without pain
You
       cannot have love,
                                       without pain
Why
        make up lies,
                               about your past
Why
        make up lies,
                               about your past  

Oh girl
            you're just running in circles
Oh girl
            you keep running in circles

You,
you have a lot to learn
Things need time,
that fire must burn
You have these rules,
saying I have to wait my turn
Show me what love is,
I too have a lot to learn

There was nothing between us,
on that cold November night.
With the city in the distance,
everything we did felt right.

We both made promises,
that we would never grow our separate ways.
How could we have known,
what was to come in future days.

Together we were too young,
still green in this unforgiving place.
Once our love began to fade,
we knew the choice we had to face.

But how could we forget,
about that cold November night.
With the city in the distance,
everything we did felt right.

how have I forgotten
foolish me
my lips across your skin  
just memories
you would think we would have learned
from the past that we had made
that we were not meant for each other
and that's the price we pay

Leaves began to fall that morning, as the crisp November wind brushed by. It was as if Autumn was saying hello to those who had the daily walk to the jobs that provided just enough to scrape by. In this part of the world, personal transportation— or a beat-down car— was a luxury that most, oftentimes, did not have the riches to get ahold of. So people took to walking down to that bus stop. No matter the weather, no matter a blue or black sky, that bus stop was where people came together.