of something in my past
something that didn’t last
but something that has a hold
something that’s now old

It's only a memory
that eludes my sleep
making me weep
filling my head
burning bright red

It's only a memory
wafting through the air
like grandma’s apple pie
on the windowsill
attracting flies

It's only a memory
no longer real
but still turning like a wheel
a windmill spinning round
of flashing light, and  
whipping sound