There’s never enough time in the day
It does not matter if it’s work or play
The digital clock spins toward the future
The past is held to the present by a flimsy suture
I’ve lost so many memories as I’ve gone through life
It’s like they’ve been cut away by some kind of knife
Since I can’t remember them, they’re lost as lessons learned
They’re a collection of bridges burned
But, every once in awhile I smell their smoke
And it makes me laugh and I start to choke
Maybe some day they will come pouring back
That’ll be the day I fall off the track