Tomorrow is a memory,
fading softly into the light.
Let the old dreams join with the memories,
neither of them ever to be.

Perhaps that is as it should be,
as it was ever meant to be.
Perhaps it is the quest, the search,
that gives us our reason,
that gives us the desire to take another step.

Poets and dreamers
and singers of songs that are true...
Serving up ballads of life, tales of living,-
Descriptions in lines and lyrics
of the gritty realities of the world.

This world has no place for dreamers,-
there is little reward for a dreamer.
But that is what I once was,
as innocent, as naive, as foolish
as that may have been.
It is what I am, still,
and it is a beautiful and relentless compulsion,
a sickness, a habit,
that I welcome with each morning,
and weep with at the ending of each day.

Tomorrow is a memory,
fading softly into the light.
Let the old dreams join with the memories,
neither of them ever to be.

There have been many roads beneath my feet,
and those travels taught me too much.
And there has been much that I have left along the side,
between then and now,
and between then and tomorrow.

I know that they will always be what they are -
Dreams of yesterdays,
and memories of tomorrows.

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