I didn't sleep last night. Something about it, just felt like that cold night on December 12th. Do you remember?
December 12th. The night you left LA. I don't wanna remember. It should be night time in New York right now. If things haven't changed, you'll probably be at the park. You love the city night lights. But things has changed. Haven't it? This is what you wore that night. This is what it looks like when I last saw you. I wonder how you look now.
I wonder if the mirroring phase is complete? They say it's identical to where we are. Down to every brick and stone. Or at least it use to be. I suppose no one would agree to it if it was otherwise. Is it true though? They say everything is in it's place. Everything is there, but not everyone. Not us.
When you left LA, you left me with this. A gift to say goodbye. Something I was never good with. You gave me the world, but all I wanted is... us...
I remember the night walks in the park like it was yesterday. The lights, the bustle of the traffic in LA.Yesterday feels like a world away. I suppose it was. All I could do, is watch you walking through the terminal. Into the night. Back to a world, where us will never survive.
We agree to give each other space. Space, it's over 8776 miles of space between us now. Even that's no one left. I don't know. All I know is all the places we talked about. Our favorite place, we use to love coming here. I wonder if it was the same over there? We will just sit there and float on all our thoughts. You'll let me throw coins and have silly wishes in the fountain. Counting on my wishes always makes you smile. I used a few cents then. There were days I wish I was in LA. To start a new life, a new world, with you. But there are also days, I believe.. This is what we are meant for.
To help bring us back to life. This were your words. To increase the better chances for a better future. For the world with your music. It's like the wall of names here. Everyday people sacrifice themselves for the needs of others. Bob Dylan - Someone once described his voice as sounding like that of a cow with his leg caught in a fence. Piqued my interest. No matter how much is written about the man, he never becomes any more known to any of us. That's what I call a legend. Paul McCartney - McCartney's written songs that have been covered by thousands of people. His catalog of tunes reads like a one-man public domain; the songs are that universal. "Yesterday," "Hey Jude," "Let It Be," "Why Don't We Do It In The Road?", "The Long And Winding Road." And those aren't even the good ones.
What will I be remembered for? But it doesn't matter. I know what you will be remembered for. Funny, isn't it? We can give and heal through our music. But we couldn't avoid the heartache felt every time we are apart. I let you go, it's time you do the same. One step at a time. I am taking mine today.
Home, if we are able to go back to that time, I wonder what kinda person I will be. Until then, will I think of my past, or look into the future? I am sure, everything will grow back to life after the drought. But I wonder, can we say the same about us?
I don't know. Tomorrow still feels like a world away.I suppose it is.
December 12th. The night you left LA. I don't wanna remember. It should be night time in New York right now. If things haven't changed, you'll probably be at the park. You love the city night lights. But things has changed. Haven't it? This is what you wore that night. This is what it looks like when I last saw you. I wonder how you look now.
I wonder if the mirroring phase is complete? They say it's identical to where we are. Down to every brick and stone. Or at least it use to be. I suppose no one would agree to it if it was otherwise. Is it true though? They say everything is in it's place. Everything is there, but not everyone. Not us.
When you left LA, you left me with this. A gift to say goodbye. Something I was never good with. You gave me the world, but all I wanted is... us...
I remember the night walks in the park like it was yesterday. The lights, the bustle of the traffic in LA.Yesterday feels like a world away. I suppose it was. All I could do, is watch you walking through the terminal. Into the night. Back to a world, where us will never survive.
We agree to give each other space. Space, it's over 8776 miles of space between us now. Even that's no one left. I don't know. All I know is all the places we talked about. Our favorite place, we use to love coming here. I wonder if it was the same over there? We will just sit there and float on all our thoughts. You'll let me throw coins and have silly wishes in the fountain. Counting on my wishes always makes you smile. I used a few cents then. There were days I wish I was in LA. To start a new life, a new world, with you. But there are also days, I believe.. This is what we are meant for.
To help bring us back to life. This were your words. To increase the better chances for a better future. For the world with your music. It's like the wall of names here. Everyday people sacrifice themselves for the needs of others. Bob Dylan - Someone once described his voice as sounding like that of a cow with his leg caught in a fence. Piqued my interest. No matter how much is written about the man, he never becomes any more known to any of us. That's what I call a legend. Paul McCartney - McCartney's written songs that have been covered by thousands of people. His catalog of tunes reads like a one-man public domain; the songs are that universal. "Yesterday," "Hey Jude," "Let It Be," "Why Don't We Do It In The Road?", "The Long And Winding Road." And those aren't even the good ones.
What will I be remembered for? But it doesn't matter. I know what you will be remembered for. Funny, isn't it? We can give and heal through our music. But we couldn't avoid the heartache felt every time we are apart. I let you go, it's time you do the same. One step at a time. I am taking mine today.
Home, if we are able to go back to that time, I wonder what kinda person I will be. Until then, will I think of my past, or look into the future? I am sure, everything will grow back to life after the drought. But I wonder, can we say the same about us?
I don't know. Tomorrow still feels like a world away.I suppose it is.
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