You said "Don´t go changing I´ll rearrange to let you in And I´ll be your historian And you´ll be mine And I´ll fill pages of scribbled ink
Hoping the words carry meaning"
Then one day, the motorcade Covered in flower wreaths First in a big parade Will come to take one of us away Leaving the other with plenty to read
This is what I want to talk about But somehow the words will not leave my mouth Was I most complete at the beginning or the bow? If past you were to meet future me Would you be holding me here and now?