Are we just gonna wait it out?
There's nothing to see here now.

Glass of bourbon.  Glass of Scotch.
I remember going to see Imogen Heap
In Boston. We were perfect then.
Incomplete circles watching the time
Getting high and listening to records
Waiting to get old

U-Haul trucks.  Shifting furniture.
Rock shows and sleepless nights
Life in dreaming color
Were the lives we had then
When we were younger selves
In need of old souls

A two hour drive.  New Hampshire cold.
Dreaming of you
And forgetting what we told
We were young and we were alive
Never believing
In anything other than us

Walking across creaking ice in December
Doors only open once
Climbing towers above it all
Life progressing quickly
Never speaking to keep it real
And silence maintains the peace

Failing efforts. Flailing comforts.
Never saying goodbye
To the life we kept holding
Never wrong, but not quite right
And never saying once
That I