Sunday Morning
It is always morning when we met It is always the same thing that we said For anything to be recognized as that It must be it, isn't? Something that is deeper than any A relation that last longer than many Was the beginning that heavy? If only time can go swiftly It must be it, isn't? The constancy is frightening The viscosity is more than just searing But if it isn't than is it isn't? Words are just a medium Air is floating like a helium But life wasn't going anywhere And I was there And so do you That's is us.