I Still Remember
Day after day, night after night
I lie awake remembering how everything used to be.
I think about the friends I’ve lost along the way
and about all the times I’ve laughed until I cried.
I miss those endless summer days at Grandma’s house
or waking up early to go fishing with Grandpa.
The Fourth of July’s with a sparkler in hand,
covering my ears as the fireworks go off down the street.
I long for those Christmas Eves with my family gathered around,
Burning old wrapping paper in the fireplace.
Singing endless carols with my dad and uncle on the guitar
while I open a Christmas Eve gift.
I remember our family vacations to Tahoe and Oregon,
a caravan of Toyotas on the freeway.
Running free on the golf range and swimming during a thunderstorm,
kayaking in the frozen lake, and whispering stories at three in the morning.
Day after day, night after night
I lie awake remembering how everything used to be.
Barbeques in the summer, fires in the winter…
as I change with the seasons.
I lie awake remembering how everything used to be.
I think about the friends I’ve lost along the way
and about all the times I’ve laughed until I cried.
I miss those endless summer days at Grandma’s house
or waking up early to go fishing with Grandpa.
The Fourth of July’s with a sparkler in hand,
covering my ears as the fireworks go off down the street.
I long for those Christmas Eves with my family gathered around,
Burning old wrapping paper in the fireplace.
Singing endless carols with my dad and uncle on the guitar
while I open a Christmas Eve gift.
I remember our family vacations to Tahoe and Oregon,
a caravan of Toyotas on the freeway.
Running free on the golf range and swimming during a thunderstorm,
kayaking in the frozen lake, and whispering stories at three in the morning.
Day after day, night after night
I lie awake remembering how everything used to be.
Barbeques in the summer, fires in the winter…
as I change with the seasons.