Everyday, lived the same way,
worn out eyes, a picture not new;
somehow, the mirror welcomes me new,
like a boy in the park after so long.

The pictures in my wallet, of times gone by,
moments spent together that so soon flew by.
If one morning the time stood still,
the wind so still, I'll not know what to do,
with the memories I keep, of you and me and the dew.