I was young
It was only temporary
Soon enough
I was back to ordinary

Just in time
A product of my own discretion
Off to find
A reason for my past intentions

I have learned
To manage all my expectations
And I’ve return
A modern form of variation

For too long
Wrapped up in my hesitation
And I was wrong
It was my imagination

Caught up in the mess that we made
Lost within the phrases we prayed
Traces of the places we stayed
Was this the plan or has it all changed