There was a time when everything was the first,
And in a few moments, everything that was habitual.
Now and then, it was almost a summer day away,
On any other day of the year.
Those times where no credits given,
Not written and not taken,
We can only hope that one day,
The tales outlive the memories themselves.
Now we have different walks,
Different mornings and different fights.
Dear to my heart a time when,
We live life on the same nights.