I divide all readers into two classes; those who read to remember and those who read to forget.

William Lyon Phelps

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Where We Would Be
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Tied, tied to a time
When we knew that the sun would shine
And you were all smiles
And we could just talk for a while
 
Of where we would be when the future comes
And how you would paint while I wrote my songs
 
If I could find you
And tell you about my life
Or maybe just write
And remind you of when we would dream
 
Of where we would be when the future comes
And how you would paint while I wrote my songs
 
Strange how you never become
The person you see when you're young