Fingerprints

Like ghost games, I conjure up

Pictures of events in my mind.

The swearing and the cannons of laughter,

The buzz of static counting out time.



What I wish would have happened,

I now paint and dress it up well,

And send it like

Truth to the tape,

Letting history swell.



Fingerprints are all but gone,

So I can make up the story as it

Goes along.



There might be the good old days

If all the right things get forgotten.

A smile can still be photogenic

If you can't see the molars are rotten.



I hope you've had revalations

Since I left you behind.

I'll at least pretend that you're happy

To stop guilt from making me come untied, since



Fingerprints are all but gone,

So I can make up the story as it

Goes along.



Those fingerprints,

They're almost gone.

I can make up the story

As it goes along.