it's one of a thousand memories
something I strain to recall
a silly tale no beginning or end
hardly worth telling at all
but you listen as it separates us you and me
filling the past that has been erased
by your merciful memory

so I will tell you stories
that you can call your own
fill you up where all this time you've been
alone

and I will tell you stories
and I will call you brother
and maybe you will find your way home

I can see straight through
your practiced persona
and I know that you want me to
do you think if you let me in
you can become something new
I see you searching for family and religion
when all you have to hold on to
is the silent hope you keep well hidden...