It was in another harmony,
it was in another time,
when our bodies found themselves,
constantly intwined.
It was in another harmony,
it was in a time before, or after ours,
that the the time would slow down for hours,
just waiting to unwind.
Back before the ticks of time,
and before the progression of such,
we made our home in the solid,
projection of a life,
we hoped to have.
It was in an other time,
part of a Bob Dylan song,
when you said you were wrong,
but were right in all the ways that mattered.
But it was in another harmony,
when all that was wrong,
proved to be right.
And it was in an another song,
that all the absence of feeling,
turned into longing.