History Stampedes on

I watch my son, take his brother's hand
I see him share and smile
He rolls over and cuddles him
Then hits him in the head
And I see a childhood unfolding in front of them
And I think of you and me
And all those shared moments I see with that gentle glow of retrospect,
Filtered into golden like an old photo
And it was all so idealistic
And I think of all those later times
When it all just turned to shit
And sometimes it makes me scared
For me, for my children
And I hold them tight
God, I hold them so tight
I don't want them to ever fight
I don't want to ever lose them
I don't want to lose anyone again
And that's when I realise I miss you.