IT’S… TIME TO SORT THROUGH ALL THE PHOTOGRAPHS, WHICH ONES TO BURN, WHICH ONES TO KEEP? TORN, FADED, FRAGMENTS FROM A LIFE-LONG COLLECTION LAYIN’ SCATTERED AT MY FEET. SUCH POINTLESS REMINDERS OF THINGS BEST FORGOTTEN FROM THE JOURNEY TO THIS FATE, WIPE CLEAN THE SLATE OF OUR FOOLISH AMBITIONS, PROMISES THAT CAME TOO LATE NOW HERE’S ONE OF HER IN HER GARDEN HAT, DAPPLED SHADOWS ON HER FACE, SHE KNEELS BY THE GRAVE OF HER GOOD INTENTIONS, FLOWERS PLANTED IN THEIR PLACE AND THERE’S OUR OLD CAR WITH IT’S PAINT CHIPPED AND RUSTED, FORLORNLY STANDING ON OUR STREET, PACKED WITH THE DREAMS FOR A FINAL JOURNEY, SOME WHERE WE’RE NEVER BOUND TO MEET. BACK THEN WE DANCED, THE SULTRY FANDANGO >>> BUT YA… CAN’T TAKE THEM WITH YOU, ‘CAUSE MEMORIES DON’T KISS YOU , SOON ANOTHER TAKES YOUR PLACE, CAN’T LEAVE THE PAST IN THE PAST, WHEN THESE GHOSTS IN MY KITCHEN, GIVE ME VISIONS IN MY SLEEP, SO NOW ITS… TIME TO SORT THROUGH ALL OF THE PHOTOGRAPHS I WANT THE ONES WE TOOK IN SPAIN, BACK WHEN WE BURNED WITH SUCH HOT-BLOODED PASSIONS DRAWN LIKE TWO MOTHS TO THE FLAME. YES THERE SHE IS DANCING, HER SILK SARONG BLOWING BAREFOOT, CAREFREE ON THE BEACH, PRETENDING OUR LIFE IS OUR OWN PRIVATE ISLAND, CARELESS SUMMERS BY THE SEA. I KNOW… SHE’LL TAKE HERS, I’LL, TAKE MINE TOO, BUT JUST TO THROW THEM ON A HEAP. BUT STILL HER GHOST WILL BE DANCING THAT SULTRY FANDANGO AND NEVER LEAVE MY DREAMS, SO WE’LL STILL DANCE, IN MY DREAMS. IN MY DREAMS, X2 IN MY DREAMS, X2
