Growing clusters full of mood,
Flowing tears they intrude;
Loving ways refined and crude,
Past is always past.
Arrows wounding deep inside,
Shifting away all my light;
Nowhere more my tempers hide,
Life is moving fast.
Send a massage through the line,
Telling me if you're doing fine;
After you left me behind,
Past is always past.
Flower growing in the dark,
Winter's singing in my park;
I'm feeling naked and stark,
Past is always past.
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