Monday, November 15, 2010

With the empty glass in my hand

Silently on a wooden chair 
Raising a toast to me 
Memories, swings around  
The soft warm air
 It’s not hard anymore 
Not with a glass in my hand  
Every thing’s still the same 
But the time’s is moving  
Forward back 
And with pictures still in the wall 
It’s hurt sometimes, but not now 
Not with a broken glass  
I’m here thinking about 
Those days spent 
And those that I am spending 
And the difference seem  
To fade away with a glass in my hand  
But the music seems to fade away  
So does the remedy in the glass 
The time seems to fade away 
And slowly does the memories 
With the empty glass in my hand

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