---

An empty canvass waits for me,
And I have a palette of dreams to paint your face.
To paint those memories I have of you,
The way your are in my thoughts

A different way of living, of being as one.
Not like the way we used to be.
The burning Sun is on my back again,
And its time to face it's light.

Those memories I have of you are twisted by time.
And that very way I used to be, is now just a memory.

Orphaned dreams I have of you,
I've grown tired of their flaws.
Your colours are all tainted,
And time has moved on your tired face.

A different way of living, of being as one.
Not like the way we used to be.

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