little films that fade from sightnnlittle flashes of colornnlittle snippets of sound and lightnnlittle ghosts uncoverednnnnplaying catch with you at a stoplightnnor was that somebody elsennit's hard to keep all these memories straightnnwhen you keep them locked away on the top shelfnnnnbut I put in you in every box I could findnnand the bottom, it fell out every timennand I made running look easynnwith the trail of memories I left behindnnnnanother sad, foggy detailnndancing on the sidelinesnnof how wrong everythingnnwent the lie I told younnof how we just ran out of timennnnand I said this is what we donnwe make plans, they fall apartnnwe fall down and we pick ourselves upnntry and make a new startnnnnand you said you put down rootsnnyou tend a garden till it growsnnbut what good is planting seedsnnwhen you always reap the sadness you've sownnnnnand I saw the same man down on the cornernnholding the same dirty signnndoes he still have your change in his pocketnnwearing your coat down on airport drivennnnchorusnnnnand I remember that your hands were smallnnbut big enough to hold my head upnnsurely that can't be allnnthat those years were made of