Sing me the song of our childhood
To whose melody we’d dance with shadows
A song of unicorn horns in the bathtub
And marionette puppet shows.

Whisper so softly the song of our memories
Don’t look too close or risk fogging the mirror
Repeat the refrain, but leave out all the pain
For only with time we’ll see clearer

Ask me to sing of the future
And I’ll sing you the past’s song instead
When sick meant chewable pills, fever and chills
But not something inside of the head

You’ll never forget the song of regret
Sung by the baby dolls gathering dust
A song of flavors not tasted, friends never met
Of broken hearts and broken trust

Sing me the song of stickers and snow days
Where broken meant a punctured ball
The simplest tune, it was slightly off-key
But lacked minor chords, so nobody cared, not at all.