The Past

A little girl and her butterfly

Basking in the fields,

Oh what a lovely sight to see

For now there is a time

And there is a place

To remember the good old days

When love was just love;

Oh how the good old days

Changed my life

For this little girl will always be

Basking in the fields

And the past will always be the past

One can only hope

To leave it there.

Alas, alas the past

One rose, one gold, one butterfly

She staggers in the breeze

This broken rag doll

Swinging from tree to tree

Like an invisible monkey

To whom does this doll belong?

Behold I hear the wind cry

Beating all the drums

For the past, the past is here at last!

Underneath the tree I surrender;

Surrender, surrender to the trees

For I love her just the same

I break the pieces of the past that bleeds

This broken rag doll

As she staggers in the breeze

One rose, one gold, one butterfly

Will always be remembered

Alas, alas the past

I carry my heart with me

Through breezy towns I surrender;

Surrender, surrender through breezy towns

Such beauty resonates with me

Through open arms

What pride is pride upon the wall

When love sees all?

For I don't question the stars at night

In winter's blithe

Alas, alas the past

In the winter's day

A ray of light is bombarded

What secrets do you have to tell?

Can you see this girl in a wishing well

Hoping for peace and harmony?

Behold, behold the wishing well

Fame and fortune is allured

To whom does the past rebel?

I fall upon

A broken bell,

I fall upon

My past

To whom does this concern

When all can be put to rest?

Alas, alas the past

I carry my heart with me

In broken pieces;

In broken pieces of the bell

No one can tell

The sensory of my secrets in dismay

For I am the past, and the past is me

Alas,

Alas the past.