We owe to each other
The stories we share; I'll tell
To the wind a hundredth time.
I remember as I say it; the chorus
It was, just right.
A loss in interest now,
Later innocence; would pass in my head
The echoes of the old time.
If I cry to you, it hurts,
If you can, favor walk back
I still have one soft-spot, somewhere & always.