Those tunes I feel.
Those melodies that I remember.
The fumes that burn.
The lies that I recognize.

Oh how I love your chords.
For years I listened.
Oh how your words resonated.
For years I listened.

The sad and quiet songs.
Telling from the end of all.
How I felt, it was my call.
But I didn’t see, I didn’t know.

All was a warning, not a show.
And now I listen, yet again.
But only now I feel.
But only know I recognize.
That familiar feeling.
Of the past, of the cries.