Crystal clear are the
day to day
melodies around us
or delayed

But the phonograph still spins
and the way things should have been
now there's nothing left at all
to recognize

Well this used to be your town
This used be your town

Learning to remember
what you called mine
the shades of you surrender
on the vine

But the photographs conceal
Everything once real
Now the files have been lost
or stolen away

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