Who knows, time flows, I can't always make it back home. But I sigh and smile cause I'm alive and come rain, or come sunshine, all that weathers not on my mind. I'm still looking for a road that winds and some poems never start, some poems break your heart. I'm still thinking of a friend of mine. Like a teardrop on the beach, I think there's so much left unseen between two simple lines in everyday life. And whose to say, and whose to be sore? I can't say who started this war, but living one's own life is not a crime and too many times we try to let it all be by and by, but maybe we're the right ones at the right time.