Nostalgic

Good luck
selling your soul,
there is not a single bidder.

The world
has simply moved on,
no devils to consider.

Oh, how sweet
it would be
to turn back the time,
to that perfect song
with the perfect rhyme,
to a picture so
familiar
you could swear it feels like home.

I look in your eyes and then,
though I've never met you,
you make me miss the days I've never known.

Your eyes again...
I've never met you, but I'm
nostalgic for the past that's not my own.

When thoughts
dissolve in a haze
in warm embrace of silence,

I'd loose lose
a couple of days
burning cheeks for the televised violence.

I go back
to turning
back the time,
with a perfect love
and the perfect crime,
to the stories so
familiar
I could swear they're true.