(Sullivan/Dean)
All the mistakes that I have made
All the things I should have seen but I looked away
All the things we should have shared that we kept to ourselves
All the things that we shared we should have kept to ourselves
And I guess it's the modern way,
the phone-call that comes flying out of a blue autumn day
and suddenly everything goes slow and quiet
and soon everyone seems to be alone with their own thoughts
and now it's as if I'm standing beneath a torrent of falling water,
feeling things I don't want to feel,
remembering things I don't want to remember...
But we said what we said and we made what we made.
And so I say the things I have learned to say
Thankful for words that can be used
We were both like waves not able to break
Rolling and turning and turning and rolling
But still not able to break
And I'm numb, I'm numb,
like when you've been driving so fast for so long that it feels as if you're hardly moving at all,
my body rigid with tension and my soul all knotted and wound up like a twisted tree,
the way we used to be, when we sang of passion and justice;
and faith was easy and celebrated in a ritual of swirling smoke,
arms all raised up towards the lights...
And we said what we said but we made what we made
And so by now you'll be further on than I ever went. Is it still painless?
Do you get to float and look down and do all of that?
Tonight would be as good a night as any - you'll see the city alive like a great resting animal
lying in the lea of the hills and the moor-land
and breathing little patterns of fire into the cold dark coming of winter
and I'm warming my back against the heat of a bonfire, like the ones you so loved to build,
and I'm thinking about it all and I'm sorry and I'm not sorry -
our time was made up of confused emotions and little whirlwinds
and all those things we couldn't really talk about but,
most of all, it was sealed in sacred moments like these and then it was gone.
Published by MCPS
