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