Why does your memory go on living in me
When I'm trying so hard to forget?
Why can't the past just leave me be
Alone with my thoughts to lament?
I'm all right in crowds and busy places,
Its while alone I feel so strange.
You stand out so clear from a thousand faces
Which my mind tries to rearrange.
I find myself in a mysterious mood
Which I have never felt before.
My feelings can't be understood
Yet my thoughts cry out for more.
I know I shouldn't live in the past
And that life must carry on.
But where's the shame in coming last
When the reason for living is gone?