Atrophy

Let the truth come out
Let our past lives remain in jest

We live like cameras
Without present tense
With a dirty lens and we...

Polish the memory
Like a trophy
Will it shine?

When the lights go out
When the rest threaten to forget
Our feet stay planted
In this ground
This buried mound

Polish the memory
Like a trophy
Will it shine?

In our old age
We stay tethered to
Our points of view
We're on repeat for actions
That we knew can't start anew
We are creatures of habit
Tied to our points of view

Polishing memories
Won't cleanse the dirt that's left
On past mistakes you've made
They will remain in rust

Polish the memory
Like a trophy
And in reverie
It will remain in rusted reverie