The past came calling,
Oh!  What a pity.
For love that once intoxicated,
Was left behind to die. 

The heart bled and the lips quivered, 
Lost were you in the midst of time, 
The night had your name on love's lips,
And the day your face to see.

The gentle hold and palm's softness, 
A baritone voice and soothing words,
The loving eyes that says it all,
Were all lost in the midst of time. 

Then the past called, 
And thoughts thought forgotten 
Came flooding back with each word,
The past cannot be lost, 
It always calls with doom or luck.