Cloud Cult. Back Again, Pt. II. Zeneszám

Sometimes I dream about summer twenty years ago.

Can I go back again?

Sometimes I wonder if I could go back to being eight years old.

Can I go back again?

Sometimes the stars seem to be conscious of my memories.

Can I go back again?

Sometimes I romanticize my memories.



I'm just a machine, but my memories will fill the Universe.

I won't come back again.



(If the wind in the grass is too much to handle,

I won't be the one to force you to breathe.

If the moon and stars are too bright for you,

I won't be the one to make you see.)



I think that hope is a pure thing

But I can't forget that whole sting

That he wooed her with the greasiest smile

And all my love turned into bile

I lived in my car for a while