If I were to tremble to your symphonies
Of distant laughs & lunatic conversations
What was built with each passing moon
Wonder if it could be built again, perhaps.

If victory were never the preferable romance
Dust be gone for the daylight to follow
What must it then glitter about from
From sorrows, smiles & laughs, perhaps.

If foresight were a bank currency
With plenty tailwinds to our identity crisis 
What could all our monologues read
Dragging between dawn & dusk, perhaps.

If my loggerheads with myself were in question
So would be you, with yours I guess
Beating the retreat as we go along
Breakin' bread, muscles and bones, perhaps.