Moving On

The place where we first met
Is tainted with regret
And the song we once called ours
Now only sounds like static.
The memories are played inside
In black and white with cyanide
And it is only all because
Our love faded with spring.
Now the wind whispers what used to be
But I'm moving on from this reverie
And though the pain is rarely deep
Your impact is like the sun:

It's always going to be there,
But I'll learn not to notice.