As I grow older I want to look back on the good times I've had, but would it be weird if I also said the bad?
Because without the bad times, there couldn't possibly be any good times?
Footsteps on stones, gravel and bones,
I want a memory to last a life time that surpasses me beyond the stage of deaths door steps.
Where will I go, where will you go, when this life is over?
Every morning when my eyes open, my nostrils breathe the dusty particles of my dusty bedroom floor...but the comfort is within, knowing to be here.
Time's stand still, but not for long when you're half a century gone.
