Books

Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here today
To talk about a book we loved to death
Reflecting on the message of the pen
Its stories read over and over again
But this book is not just about somewhere else
Starring each and every single one of us
Pages filled with our own memories, masterplans
Never forgotten, no not ever and ever again
It’s up to us to write the sequel, It’s up to us to live unfinished stories
As we are the writers, the actors and the audience all in one
Sadly enough some books are no longer near
Before we finish them they seem to have disappeared
Or you find out they have an open end
When you turn the last page over and over again
It’s up to us to write the sequel, It’s up to us to live unfinished stories
The future is unwritten, let’s try to write
It’s up to us to write the sequel, It’s up to us to live unfinished stories
As we are the writers, the actors and the audience all in one
But as with everything, when books get older their pages crumble
Blank spots, dried out ink, when books get older they disassemble
But as with everything, when we get older we start to stumble
Blind eyes, dried out skin, what is left are the words and what we’ll remember