Barefoot on hardwood floors
Laundry soap and electric fans
I have a feeling I\'ve been here before.
I know these doors, yet the hinges now squeak
I\'ve slept in this bed and its white satin sheets,
yet now, dust coats the frame
I know this couch and the wine stain on the end,
but its color is dull; it sags like an old man\'s face
I know this bowl, like the bruise on my skin,
yet it\'s rim is now chipped
I know these books and their gold-rimmed pages,
yet the stories don\'t quite hit the same
I know this place and all of its corners,
yet it\'s different, and strange
I look through the glass where the afternoon fades
Watching the shadows stretch over the floor
The sun used to flood through these heavy drapes
But the light doesn\'t reach like it did anymore
Take me back to the times
where everything shined.