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(The Future, The Future)

And don’t you think it’s kind of funny,
the way that the future works?
The homes we’ll have, the towns we’ll love,
sitting unbeknownst to us?
The people we’ll grow with, feeling alive,
going about their day, still strangers to us.
Still strangers for a few more days, months and years.
and I can’t stop thinking about the dreams I’ll eventually accomplish,
the goals I’ll probably never achieve.
And I wonder if you’re out there, maybe thinking of me as well?
Maybe you died, maybe you were never alive, maybe you’re waiting for my call.

But maybe, the future is too abstract.
Maybe we can never say where we’re going.
Maybe we’ll never truly know we’re we’ve been until we’ve left.
Maybe this is all I’ve got left, a few more days, months, or years, whatever it is.

So maybe my future home has yet to built.
My future love has yet to become herself.

Don’t you think it’s kind of funny the way the future works?
Will we be just as unsure in 5 years as we are now?

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