Last evening I turned by the pages of timeAnd tore out the chapters when you were mineI attempted to cut out the memories of youAnd paste in some nuance, far better and true, trueI searched through the chapters, referring to heartsOr the one with the caption, till death do us partI ripped at each letter, and I tore at each wordI screamed at your memory, and nobody heard, nobody heardBut your memory's determined, and chances are fewOf my ever finding a replacement for youIt desperately clings to the floor of my mindAnd fights for its place in the pages of time
