If it hasn’t started, you can’t press rewind.
and if the curtain closes, can’t go back to change your mind
Don’t be defined by the things you once did,
but always remember how to get where you hid.
Everything eventually slows down when you breathe.
Keep in mind the difference between know and believe.
Second floor summers in the night where they dance
where they’re watching each other but they won’t take a chance
They always tell you what they think you should do.
Lay in the bubble or breakout to find something new.
Certain things seem to stick around in my brain,
like me, left of the picture, on the couch, in the rain
The songs that skip.
The songs behind her eyes
went for a dip
in an ocean of lies
‘She won’t dance?’
‘She won’t dance.’
Tossing two plastic lemons while it’s quiet with one hand.
Then thirty minutes of sleep slides right off the pan.
A week or so earlier, in an unexpected twist,
the stop lights stared at the music they missed.
The last one was it, there is no next time.
Get on the bus or we’ll leave you behind.
Glance down at the edge, jump out to your dreams.
Swim down through the air ‘til you find trampolines.
Bounce back up to the stars, past the last little light.
Don’t worry why we’re not where they are tonight.
In the corner of a circle is where we found our place.
It would all be impossible if we played up in space.
this is your life chuck johnson 