The memories are not a season
Day or time or even reason
Who might have been around me
doesn’t make the reverie

It’s a song that’s on the radio
The smell of grass that’s freshly mowed
Smashed pumpkins on suburban concrete
smiling ‘cause life’s all a dark treat

The fog of children loudly playing
A future they’re anticipating
The world we see within the mind
We live in our own space and time


Here we go, my friend
It’s beginning now the end
The road is dark ahead
No need for you to tread


The wormholes in the sky
Surpass the passing time
From living to the dead
It’s somehow in my head
And now you’re in my head


The dungeons of my mind
Reflect a different time
White walls, fading sunshine
Illuminate the bad times
Illuminate the good times

Now it’s you and me
But we’re all history
in books fed to machines
with fire in between

I hope they don’t see me

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