I can remember it so well,nthe bed of roses where we lay,nthe crown of thorns I was so keen to give away.nAll the warning signs ignored,nthe passion's played.nnI could foresee what was to come,nI had a sense of what might happen.nThe river runs and very rapidlynbecomes a torrent, sweeping usntowards our ricochet.nnIt takes a lifetime to unravel all the threadsnthat have tied us in our webs of tourniquet.nnI stake no claim on memory.nI stand on ceremonial quicksand.nI look for something with solidity to hold:nsomething lasting, something pristine,nwith no sense of decay.nnCan you remember how that was?nCan you remember?nnIt takes a lifetime's understanding of the flownto surrender, let the current sweep you away.nWhat if I'd told you I would never let you go,nI would hold you every step along the way?nIt takes a lifetime to unlearn all that you knownto return the things you borrowed for a day.