I remember the stroll we took
under the rain that afternoon
it was almost real...
And the sun
brighter than it's ever been
the most clear image that I've ever seen
it was almost real...
Like the moon on that very night
sparkling to the rythm of the light
and your hand held on to mine
it was almost real...
That morning of July
it was delightful
waking up to the sound of your voice
on the phone
it was almost real...
and I remember the stroll I took yesterday
in the afternoon and under the rain
I was alone...
And the sun
it was hidden along with the pain--
the moon on that very night
it had lost all its shine
and nobody's hand was held on to mine...
But this morning of August
it was delightful
waking up to the sound of your voice
on the phone
it was perfection
as we followed the sunset to the same direction
toguether-- but it was just my imagination
it was almost real...
This morning of August
Pittyful as it is
waking up to this view
the weather in disgust
and my phone on top of the dresser
gathering dust...
Another morning of August
what difference will it make?
the birds won't sing for the morning's sake
it is almost fake...
just like those strolls we used to take---
