Looking back at the photographs of me
star into eyes I used to see with
they are glowing warm with memories that stick like syrup
this ones from when I was just a boy
to young to dream or be employed
bliss swept my countenance as I was climbing up the playhouse
I recall the feeling
but don"t recall its name
I can see me
looking right back at me
through the one-way glass
of a photograph
all of the things I thought and
all of the fights I fought
are ghosts inside this frame
and so I turn the page
Here I am breaking into teens
my look is confident and green
my hair was brown but like Cobain"s and I was scared and hungry
for feeling anything at all
the flight that comes before the fall
the taste that grows inside your mouth after you"ve kissed a treasure
there is nothing like the first time
if there is I"ve never seen it
But I can see me
looking right back at me
through the one-way glass
of a photograph and
all of the things I thought and
all of the fights I fought are ghosts inside this frame
and so I turn the page
star into eyes I used to see with
they are glowing warm with memories that stick like syrup
this ones from when I was just a boy
to young to dream or be employed
bliss swept my countenance as I was climbing up the playhouse
I recall the feeling
but don"t recall its name
I can see me
looking right back at me
through the one-way glass
of a photograph
all of the things I thought and
all of the fights I fought
are ghosts inside this frame
and so I turn the page
Here I am breaking into teens
my look is confident and green
my hair was brown but like Cobain"s and I was scared and hungry
for feeling anything at all
the flight that comes before the fall
the taste that grows inside your mouth after you"ve kissed a treasure
there is nothing like the first time
if there is I"ve never seen it
But I can see me
looking right back at me
through the one-way glass
of a photograph and
all of the things I thought and
all of the fights I fought are ghosts inside this frame
and so I turn the page