i am on a street, I walkninto the store, I do not talkni think of you, i think a lotnof what you might saynnmemory lanennthe old man at the store still singsna funny, ancient tune, chinesen'n' whistles to himself and seesni am alone again todaynhe winks, as if to saynit's okaynnmemory lanenmemory lanennsometimes when my memory failsni look into my book of spellsncards we wrote and pictures takennby someone elseni feel the painnnmemory lanenni sleep by the window sillnsounding out and dream for realnof simple times of hands in tangle,nfingers engagednnmemory lane