Impressions of the Past

I can't read a painted picture
Of life as it was in the past
Why did i think it would last?

When all the colors keep on shifting
The truth is not found in the hue
It's in my perspective anew

Impressions of the past will be moored
Until i find what it is i'm looking for
What it is I'm looking for
What it is I'm looking for
What it is I'm