Some minutes I will steal
And slip into the past
And though it won’t be real
It wont be our last.
I have bottled a thousand yesterdays
It has aged to perfection
I’ll wear it for you, a dab here and there, just my wayward ways
Wayward they may be, they are still your addiction.
One long night I have pressed
Like a dead rose between pages
I’ll bring it tonight, a little unrest
I’ve rested for ages.
And I’ll steal years and years away from today
Just to make you stay, in yesterday.