the color of an afternoon just like when you were 5 years oldnnthe moon over the ocean ive seen from a island eveningnnprogression that starts to lose its meaningnnif we have spent most of a lifetime dreamingnnthen dreaming is the state we shall keepnnstories of our solitude will sing themselves to sleepnnand we will sing to everything the stories of where we have beennnthe history thats coursing through our veinsnnno, nothing factual is written on a pagennnnso surely and so steadilynna slowly moving cloud will whisper i am but for hours born to lastnnyour sogging soaking future is my foggy fading pastnnand so now if you want to wish upon me, wish upon me fastnnwhatever can be held in your heart is surely yours to graspnnso you wish for a picture of all of the people you have had the pleasure to knownnor a postcard from all of the places that you ever wanted to gonnsaying you are here now on this magical nightnnthe sun and sky at sunset, well, its such a stunning sightnnyou can sleep safely and soundly and you are lovednnnnand nothing ever does begin like nothing ever endsnnask every atom in your body and they'll surely tell younnfriend, i am old as time and older stillnnand you are made of everything you love, you feel, or killnni will outlive you, and forgive you, and be just a baby still