A bit 'cos I've asked you, a little' because time is passing. A little 'because there is little to tell of the year if they have just left, he left us in a van full of people hallucinating and returns that left us empty those boxes that occupied the first few people care. That has left us with unforgettable weekend and parentheses by sprinkling petrol. A little 'because of things we've done too much and changed millions of lives, just that maybe we were too busy pointing in different directions, between the green monsters and endless travel. We do not like these batteries but these cases the assessment is incomplete. We do not like these cold and trembling with these beds. We do not like the soups we burn because we're still looking out the windows. We dislike those shows, those pedals, those laps drunk bicycle to hit the garage of the house. Do you remember when we walked in the snow and ice doing somersaults to stand? There 's been more or less so, has been that we finished that bottle port and were those days when everything seems finally pigeonholed. And 'way that takes us a bit' wrong even when we walk to the arcade or when we try to line up a disproportionate number of things that we could not stay in line. But this is what we are asked, along with those records that record, together with the reputation of being a jerk who told me I had stopped because it was not true, but now that you're gone they begin to doubt. Like when we get distracted for a moment and then not find the thread. Like when we do not remember a song for months. Like when I needed your hands.
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