Remember those blossom days we'd haunt the open hills
Hand in hand with silences we couldn't fill ?
One-way conversations, we'd leave hanging in the breeze,
To be scattered, like the blossom from the trees.

In rooms constructed out of light, we'd play our awkward games
Butterflies too hesitant to bathe in flame;
One-way conversations, we'd leave hanging in the breeze,
To be scattered, like the blossom from the trees.

In yearning for that moment between your flesh and mine
I'd sometimes wonder how the hunger lasted such a time
Appetite must breed its own illusions ...

Adrift upon a shallow stream, we sang our twilight songs:
What matter, if we selected different keys?
The time arrived to silence every string:
Two one-way conversations drifted silently downstream.

Words & Music © M.J.C. Griffin [ASCAP]