A Lyric in My Head I Haven't Thought of Yet

Let's see a show of hands for every human-being repeating identical evenings again and again and again. Life's one long game of whisper down the lane where the faces change, but results remain the same.

So here we are. No cause for alarm watching replays of a decades worth of days.
And you're a lyric in my head I haven't thought of yet, but I can still describe the turn of phrase.

I don't want what this evening will become if we have enough time.
So do we have enough time?
I don't need these evenings to repeat if we've had enough time.
So have we had enough time?

Like corresponding lines in the cement, it's a journey from the doorway to the bed as we unravel to the floor. Perfection from the start, but perfection is a dying art. Just steady repetition I can't ignore.

So here we are. No cause for alarm watching you replay on a decades worth of days.
And you're a lyric in my head I haven't thought of yet, but I can still describe your turn of phrase.

All along Armitage Avenue, I kept the pace with you.

I don't want what this evening will become if we have enough time.
So do we have enough time?
I don't need these evenings to repeat if we've had enough time.
So have we had enough time?

You're a lyric in my head I haven't thought of yet.
All along Armitage Avenue.