Trickery of a mind not better than a mind completely lost.
Time keeps creeping through the songs you always listen to.
This This is salvation; this This that we read I wrote is our salvation.
Hope hold love of that frontal left lobe we left in a gutter so long ago.
So long, so, so long and other tricks of talks we never wanted to have,
Yet hold out to hold tight to hold on to what we were meaning to say,
So long, so long ago.
