When I sing praises of my former self
It seems to me
It’s bent into what it’s supposed to be
I have been longing for more
To relive the day
That will always remain
Just a thought away

Time and again
Worlds that I mend
Lack the villains
That define them
All the heroes
Have forgotten

Weaving memories
Weaving memories

Without care
I tie in knots the threads that lead me where
I flee
Into a place that’s not quite history
I am aware I ignore
What I leave askew
Realign, [bad word] I’m happy, aren’t you