End of Story

People I know, places I go

Make me feel tongue tied

I can see how, people look down

They're on the inside

Here's where the story ends

People I see, weary of me

Showing my good side

I can see how, people look down

I'm on the outside

Here's, where the story ends

Ooh here's, where the story ends

It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year

Which makes my eyes feel sore

Oh I never should have said, the books that you read

Were all I loved you for

It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year

Which makes me wonder why

And it's the memories of the shed, that make me turn red

Surprise, surprise, surprise

Crazy I know, places I go

Make me feel so tired

I can see how people look down

I'm on the outside

Here's, where the story ends

Ooh here's, where the story ends

It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year

Which makes my eyes feel sore

And who ever would've thought, the books that you brought

Were all I loved you for

Oh the devil in me said, go down to the shed

I know where I belong

But the only thing I ever really wanted to say

Was wrong, was wrong, was wrong

It's that little souvenir, of a colorful year

Which makes me smile inside

So I cynically, cynically say, the world is that way

Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise

Here's, where the story ends

Ooh here's, where the story ends

Regrets Shouldn't Last Forever...

624

Forever—is composed of Nows—

'Tis not a different time—

Except for Infiniteness—

And Latitude of Home—

From this—experienced Here—

Remove the Dates—to These—

Let Months dissolve in further Months—

And Years—exhale in Years—

Without Debate—or Pause—

Or Celebrated Days—

No different Our Years would be

From Anno Domini's—

Emily Dickinson