I fought my way back into that dwindling last dream
To feel it's warmth and comfort to bathe in it's meaning
My eyes open and slowly I lose my grip on it
It slowly evapourates like morning dew in the first rays
Like a middle aged person reaching back for the adventure of his twenties
pursuing and simulating the nostalgia of those times
Instead of standing in the present fully and greeting it
There is zero for those that strive backward toward those special days
What is passed is gone we can never be our younger selves again
We can not relive those decades or reach those moments
So let go of it let the morning sun burn off the mist
Settle yourself into the creation of a new time
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