98

Once seen through a window

now only looking into

where I once belonged

thirty years and change

they press against the dream though

they don’t really matter at all

and still in years to come

in marks we made and photos taken

THAT’S ME IN THE GARDEN

OF THE HOUSE I GREW UP IN

THOUGH I’D HAVE TO WAIT

YEAH IT WAS ONLY ’98

THERE’S YOU

AND ALL THE THINGS WE’D GO ON

TO DO

I’D HAVE IT ALL WRIT BY FATE

AND IT WAS ONLY ’98

it wasn’t carved in stone

never even promised

but I still assumed it all

it would still be mine

but it never really had been at all

sometimes near dawn I wonder

where we might have wandered

on a foreign shore

but every stone unturned

those roads we left untaken

they don’t really matter at all

and still in years to come

in marks we made and photos taken

THAT’S ME IN THE GARDEN

OF THE HOUSE I GREW UP IN

THOUGH I’D HAVE TO WAIT

YEAH IT WAS ONLY ’98

THERE’S YOU

AND ALL THE THINGS WE’D GO ON

TO DO

I’D HAVE IT ALL WRIT BY FATE

AND IT WAS ONLY ’98