If pictures could speak
I've heard they'd say a thousand words
But if the language of them was foreign
Then, to me, it may sound all absurd
Yet, in the sound you could still feel
The tone at which they spoke
Softly serving as a memory
Of the places it did know

If pictures could speak
I would listen through the night
Laughing as the sun came up
Never sleeping but eyes creeping
More closed passing through a morning light.
I would listen to the faded laughter
Of times someone lived to say
Staring at the past, wasting time in present day

If pictures could speak
They may haunt the world I knew
But their secrets I would keep
In the cryptic art that someone drew
They'd never know I heard them
So silent, but still there
Always talking but never realizing anyone cared

Isn't it amazing?
How a picture
Could bring back all the memories from that moment.
Just take a look at the picture
And all the memories come rushes back
All the little details
Let alone videos,
Both stores memories on its own way
Both painful
And happy memories

to look at a photograph
of a place
you once knew,
to know you walked there.

You try to recall what it must have looked like,
back then,
try to imagine the caress of the wind, or
what you know it must have smelled like, or
how the ground shifted
beneath your feet.

But you can't.

Memory is funny that way.
We remember without remembering.
These photographs are nothing but
broken portals to the past
leaving only chasms of static
where life should have been.

Does it ever bother you that pictures can be lies,
how a smile can be faked and nobody will ever realize.
The photos of you that I hang on my walls are starting to feel distant,
I hear a pain in your voice, as if you could break in an instant.

And it's a whole lot easier to burn a picture than it is to burn a memory,
And I was kinda hoping that we would never reach this treachery,
And you're falling under quickly and I can't do a ******* thing,
And I'm writing songs to cope but I don't have the guts to sing.

I think you're better off away from me.
I think you're better off alone.

When I saw that pic
Of us, all I wanted to
Do was shred the thing

A lot of photo's
Are taken every day.
But a few are really special.
So many memories,
Shared with my friends.
The world tears us apart.
But we stick.
The problem is,
Will you still remember me,
If these pictures are lost and gone?

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