Silver slivers of an other world
Golden echoes of a past long gone
It is as if the warming summer rain never ceased to coat our skins
It is as if the most important part of you lives inside my pulsing veins
Gray clouds repeating your whispered word
White lies, hidden in a new song
It is as if your home is in my mind
But my mind is lost and home is hard to find
Iridescent pictures of the end of an affair
I vividly remember the way you used to ask “Are you there?”
Silver slivers, fragments of our story
Golden echoes, mirror of a promise I intend to keep
reflections of an unquiet mind 