I have my pen in hand but it doesn't feel familiar anymore
Leave alone feel like I've put words together to serenade you with, so long before
Thoughts running nineteen to the dozen, those were my glory days
Unfettered by materialistic thoughts, unmoved by worldly ways
I pick the pen again today, to reminisce those times gone by
Or perhaps to let myself know that I still reside with me, that maybe he could still be found if I really try
But words are difficult to find today, they aren't flowing effortlessly
I'm fumbling through the cobwebs in my mind, waddling listlessly
Perhaps I ought to put the pen down now, let the memories of those days go
Or maybe just get back to writing loads again, I'm not really sure, I don't really know....