Let’s Talk in a Hundred Years

If i should know what to say
And i’m never sure i’m right
Could we just keep today
As proof that we once exist.

Our words will be keepsakes
That we’ll write on paper
To bury inside a special urn
And forget about it for decades.

Then we will go away to sleep
Lose ourselves in a dream
Wake up in a hundred years
Remembering that time we lived.

Our words six feet deep
But we have the vivid memory
Of what it says, what it means
If our paths would somehow meet.

“When your life is so, so dreary, dream.” -WPC