Looking back at the photographs of me
Stare into eyes I used to see with
They are glowing warm with memories that stick like syrup
This one's from when I was just a boy
Too young to dream or be employed
Bliss swept my countenance as I was climbing up the playhouse
I recall the feeling
But don't recall its name
I can see me
Looking right back at me
Through the one-way glass
Of a photograph
All of the things I thought and
All of the fights I fought
Are ghosts inside this frame
And so I turn the page
Here I am breaking into teens
My look is confident and green
My hair was brown but like Cobain's and I was scared and hungry
For feeling anything at all
The flight that comes before the fall
The taste that grows inside your mouth after you've kissed a treasure
There is nothing like the first time
If there is I've never seen it
But I can see me
Looking right back at me
Through the one-way glass
Of a photograph and
All of the things I thought and
All of the fights I fought are ghosts inside this frame
And so I turn the page

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