scrapbook

hold my hand
we’re stuck in a photograph
a memory
of a time not too long past
we’re holding on to what we used to have
close your eyes
I’ll sing you a lullaby
we’ll steal the stars
and then paint the sky
we’ll ride the wind and hold on tight
you and me
summers and winters
seasons pass
I’m counting on my fingers
memories
of what used to be
you and me
breaking tradition
we rule the world
joy is our mission
memories
of what used to be
years roll by
we’re stuck in a photograph
holding on to a time not too long past