There is music that goes with this:
Turn the corner
to a street beyond a map,
walk much further
till our feet forget the path.
We have walked here,
but only in our dreams;
then we wake up
never knowing what it means
Turn the handle,
slide back the creaking door
as I wonder
if you’ve been here before.
Weathered iron
is rusting in its sleep
as we sit here
in the silence that we keep
In the morning
if the snow has turned to gold
does it matter
in a story never told (2x)
Turn the corner
to a street beyond a map,
walk much further
till our feet forget the path.
We have walked here,
but only in our dreams;
then we wake up
never knowing what it means
In the morning
if the snow has turned to gold
does it matter
in a story never told (4x and fade)
Words Like Me 