The attic dust is thick and deep, But a small, worn box I choose to keep. Inside, the scent of yesterday, a subtle, fading clue, And a handful of photos, bent and blue. We were younger then, with no disguise, Just fire in our hearts and mischief in our eyes.
Now the seasons spin, the years fly past, And nothing good is ever built to last. I trace the smile on every familiar face, Yearning for that lost and simple place.
Oh, these are the Faded Polaroids, Captured light in the silent voids. A bittersweet symphony, the past is playing loud, Wrapped in a misty, melancholic cloud. We can't go back, the door is closed and locked, But the memory stays, forever deeply stocked. I wouldn't trade it, the laughter and the pain, For anything in the world, not even the rain.
I remember the streets where we used to run, Before the battles were lost, before they were won. The late-night talks, under the pale street lamp glow, The secret dreams that only we would know. There are moments I cringe at, moments I hold so dear, A beautiful chaos, year after fleeting year.
And sometimes in the quiet of the night, When the moon hangs heavy, cold and bright, I hear an old song, a forgotten tune, And I'm eighteen again, chasing the half-moon.
Oh, these are the Faded Polaroids, Captured light in the silent voids. A bittersweet symphony, the past is playing loud, Wrapped in a misty, melancholic cloud. We can't go back, the door is closed and locked, But the memory stays, forever deeply stocked. I wouldn't trade it, the laughter and the pain, For anything in the world, not even the rain.
There's a gentle sting in the heart of the truth, That the best chapters belong to our youth. But if the past hadn't been, who would I be today? It shaped my scars, then it washed them away. (Building intensity) So I'll cherish the ghost, I'll welcome the tear, For the beautiful weight of what brought me here.
Oh, these are the Faded Polaroids, Captured light in the silent voids. A bittersweet symphony, the past is playing loud, Wrapped in a misty, melancholic cloud. We can't go back, the door is closed and locked, But the memory stays, forever deeply stocked. I wouldn't trade it, the laughter and the pain, For anything in the world, not even the rain.
The Faded Polaroids... A sweet, soft ache... Never truly gone...
