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It's a curious thing.
It's a curious thing, when you consider it.
How we failed, and didn't win.
It's a lovely thing, when you think.
How our separation prevented a sink.
It's a daring thing, if I say.
That we will be together again, one day.
It's an awful thing, so I shout.
The thought of our futures not working out.
It's a wretched thing, that we bled.
But how could we not after what was said.
It's a dreadful thing, that por tions of us have died.
Wouldnt it be lovely if we could revive.
I have said and will continue to say many a thing.
Though I scarcely have memories on which to cling.
There are places Ive been that I am not proud.
I lost faith in you: the one thing I swore to disallow.
I cannot, though I wish I could, detail the injustice.
I wish it was how it was: the wind, and just us.
We have been screaming at one another, each with no reply.
So we will stand here, complacent, until the day we die.