Standing on the corner, of 5th and 39th, watching as the (towers crumble to the ground) world passes by; but, no one seems to notice, the hours in decline. I never thought I'd want 'em back, 'till the day you said goodbye. We've been waiting way too long. Even in better times, it wasnt in my heart to live a lie. We could have better times if you saw the world through a different set of eyes (cue point at eyes motion). Sitting with the lights out, strumming my guitar. Writing confused love songs, and calling it art. The trick to (self expression) writing love songs is knowing where to start. Not the time we spent together, but the time we spent apart.