I go making choices on my way.
Quiet little voices seem to say,
"It's all right now
it was all right then."
They breathe as if to speak and then
they fade away but a trace remains behind.
Simple contemplation, then I'm fine.
You can have your life but you can't have mine.
And I don't pretend to comprehend
the memory of you now and then.
It fades away but a trace remains behind.
Days go by and emptiness takes shape.
Form a line and mend me when I break.
And I'll go back to songs and such,
cause to have it all would be too much.
It fades away, gets left behind
it bends and breaks but a trace remains behind.
