I think we've all changed, and it's hard to see why
I've bothered so long after those days when I cried.
From small to big we've walked the road
Until a fairy-tale past became too heavy a load.
I've realized recently that it doesn't make sense
since I've put down my brush and picked up a pen.
Different books on the shelves and dreams hung on the wall
different reasons we'd go up high enough to fall.
Yet here you are on my left and you, on my right,
because it turns out friends don't care what you fight.
We're not the same, if we ever were close,
but you understand me of all people the most.
