The Aftermath

I'm wondering if my thoughts of her
have ever crossed her thoughts of me
and if they're half as clear as mine
and if there'll ever be a time

for us to journey once again
as lovers and as trusted friends
and this was only the first part run

get a hold of yourself
don't worry about the aftermath
there is no one after you
or on your back
there is no one after you

whit the beauty of a polariod
and her eyes are always full of joy

like a frozen glimpse of butterflies
on a clourized celluloid sky
she waves her cheerful last goodbye
and begs for me to let passed things slide

get a hold of yourself
don't worry about the aftermath
there is no one after you
no one on your back
there is no one after you