History dictates that we’ll meet again you and I,
When one of us is brave enough to swallow their pride.
Will you still be who you were before you left me,
Still have that smile that smacks of devilish naivite?
Don’t you ever get frightened that the circles might end,
That one day we’ll be so far apart there’ll be no getting back?
Me, I’m more afraid that you’ll change beyond recognition,
So that even if you do make your way home again, I won’t know you,
And I’ll walk right by you, wondering what you’re doing with yourself these days.
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