The cord is connecting the result to the thought.
I don't move backwards, but I can when rethinking the past.
Nostalgia sets in and I daydream for days.
In my trance I fall. My knees buckle, my feet go numb and my blood goes cold.
When I wake, my sight is deluded. I lie in bed and I swear I sense you smelling my breath.
It could be anyone, but I'm always hoping it's you.
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