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The Way Things Used To Be (Brooke White)

Painted pictures and colored glasses Burning hot like smoke and ashes Deserted halls and empty walls A memory of you recalls to me The way things used to be I love your letters and dried up flowers Ticking clocks that pass the hours Shadows here in the moonlight cast Memories of a haunting past you left behind For me To find a melody The way things used to be Turn up the radio To tune out your memory But even stronger now Sing out the harmony When will this hopeless dream Ever set me free? Sunday dinners, the table?s set Faces that you don?t forget I spilled the milk and shattered a plate Reminds me of the stolen fate So sad; it?s too bad That we lost what we had Now everything that I see becomes The way things used to be The way things used to be The way things used to be