jin1

Leaf by leaf, page by page, throw this book away.
All the sadness, all the rage, throw this book away.
Rip out the binding, tear the glue, all of the grief we never even knew. We had it all along.
Now it's smoke.

The things we've written in it, never really happened. All the things we've written in it, never really happened.
All of the people come and gone, never really lived.
All the people come have gone.
No one to forgive - smoke.

We will not write a new one.
There will not be a new one.

Here's an evening dark with shame; throw it on the fire.
Here's the time I took the blame; throw it on the fire.
Here's the time we didn't speak it seemed for years and years. Here's a secret, no one will ever know the reasons for the tears.
They are smoke.

Where do all the secrets live? They travel in the air.
You can smell them when they burn, they travel.
Those who say the past is not dead can stop and smell the smoke. You keep on saying the past is not dead, well, stop and smell the smoke.
You keep saying the past is not even past.
You keep saying ...

We are smoke ...