[Verse 1]
Old photo albums crack at the seam
Ink bleeds stories that nobody deems
Dollar‑store trophies shed the luster
Time trades gold for busted plaster
[Chorus ]
Dust in the wind, said the bus‑stop bard
Plans we plot, dealt wild card
Faces slip from boulevard
Memory’s grip always plays hard
[Verse 2]
Barnyard swings rust in the yard
Childhood chalk marks scraped and scarred
Rain erases what we guard
Still we plant another shard