I’m still searching for the scene

Dreamed of in the suburbs

Listening to records of a past already dead

Because where do you go when you want to be you

But you want to be you in a place which no longer exists?

I’m still searching for that scene

We dined on leftovers long out of date, hoping

the next meal would bring nourishment not more empty stomachs

But there’s only so many disappointing rooms taunting

Before you realise this is all you are gonna get

I’m still searching for that scene

Sending out messages in cut and paste, 

With a self-addressed 

Envelope 

To rusting PO Boxes only answered 

By the heroes we were told to never meet

Ahead of our time, we lived in the past

Unable to bridge the gap between the then and now

We were children hunting down an impossible dream

One from which they can’t seem to shake me quite awake.

I’m still searching for that scene