No song that I could sing
But I can try for your heart,
our dreams, and they are made out of real things
like a shoebox of photographs
with sepia-toned loving
Love is the answer
at least for most of the questions in my heart, like
Why are we here? And where do we go?
And how come it's so hard?
It's not always easy and
sometimes life can be deceiving
I'll tell you one thing, it's always better when we're together
But I can try for your heart,
our dreams, and they are made out of real things
like a shoebox of photographs
with sepia-toned loving
Love is the answer
at least for most of the questions in my heart, like
Why are we here? And where do we go?
And how come it's so hard?
It's not always easy and
sometimes life can be deceiving
I'll tell you one thing, it's always better when we're together
Is it bad that I wish I could have written it first? Why do other people always write my feelings better than I do? I'm supposed to be good at this!
It has been 13 days since my last post. Sorry guys. I'm exhausted and busy and I know there are a few important people that resent me for it. I promise I'm trying.
I've actually been writing a blog in my head for the past few weeks about what having a grown-up job is teaching me. But I'm not ready to post it yet. Stay-tuned.
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