A Trick Of Time

To live in the past must be scary a bit Like you open the novel you’ve read And it’s not quite the same what now you reread What you have thought, felt and said Seems distorted by memory, you ask yourself why Should it continue like fictional Though the fiction it’s not, but your own past time Behaves in some way unpredictable It's like the Pierre Menard effect in Borges's Attempt to rewrite an old fable Don Quixote, who apparently wasn’t obsessed To fight mills, to impress his fair lady Reappears as wiser and sadder in time That hadn’t yet entered back then To live in the past gives no hope to revive That familiar feeling again It speaks of nostalgia, back in the past You’re trying to hide from the yearning But it can’t provide you the same healing blast On this lonely beach in the morning.