Isn’t it strange?
Still a mystery,
That as we pass each minute,
We are recorded in history.
How the years just flyby,
It’s still a mystery,
Having gotten so far,
a living testimony,
That’s what we are.
The days we had,
the pranks we played…
I’m holding onto
these memories forever.
could take us to places
where the skies always blue,
and the fields swaying to the flow
Wish we could relive those moments,
And relish those joys once again.
Wish we could go back in history.
But, isn't life a mystery?
