How many pages have I wasted
Writing down all the feelings I never said
Once all the ink has been faded
There is one line left there, an empty space

While using wild flowers as our bookmarks
And rolling down the hill on the bikes we found alone outside
Building bricks into towers
That are torn down as they fade from our sight

We ran up the hill that looked on down to the morning sea
The sky so bright, the blue almost frightening
My right hand held cider to cool down the heat
while the left hand was reaching out to you

I’m sure the future [bad word] towards us
Giving the answers to unasked questions
Although, you’re by my side I’m feeling lonely, almost wanting to cry
And beg for time to go back so we can meet again
I crazy or lost?