In my father's time, when things were over, they were done.In my father's time, when someone went away, they were gone.But you're everywhere, I turn on the phone and stare.And you're online, typing, waving, smiling, in Tenerife or in Times Square.In another time zone, you're in full color by my bed.And I'm alone, I can find no resolution in my head.And friends come around, in the firm belief I know how you are.And questions abound, in the sharp relief of seeing things from afar.So I asked him what it's like, his love's lost and others he had found.And he sat there for a while, he didn't move and he didn't make a sound.He said they show up now and then.All my scars that stay, they come tumbling, crying, flying, sighing, laughing.And take your breath away.And I'd hope in time, your yesterdays wouldn't tear you apart.And unlike mine.Unlike mine.Your past would stay black and white, in your heart.And in our time, someday we may meet and find a smile.And maybe our time, will come around again, in a while.And maybe our time, will come around again, in a while.