The quiet walks have made me see, what Ive never seen before,
What you tried to make me understand, that there was so much more,
Is it to late to return? Or was I never away, even in my mind when I strayed?
Which was to a place absent of grace,
I turn on these streets and see you at twenty eight, bangs and curls and your innocent face,
Though the pain was my own, you grabbed me and looked into my eyes and I was home,
When I turned from the darkness and saw the path you gave to me, I asked, why do you love me?
I will never know, yet it doesn\'t matter at all, you simply made it so.