Rooms filled with memories and all things that we lost Neatly ironed and sorted and clean now The books never finished - ideas still too vague The ashes of lies that we told and in the dark I hear them whisper Like static in the monitors Postcards from a long forgotten place Where I could rest my head your unmade bed - no radio device And release the flood - that built up in our hearts we all keep locked inside Like a wish for change too faint to chase After all the days that have passed us by