I've lived in this town for twenty five years,
and that's eight years longer than most school peers.
And I have seen it change.
I remember places of old, I remember Leopolds.
Before change came forth, they renamed it Norths,
and now they call it Parsons Bakery.
(It was also briefly a smoothie bar but that never took off.)
And I can remember the places you can no longer enter.
Let me walk you through The Beechwood Shopping Center.
As I do in my head, at night alone.
Remember that weird bust of Brian Jones?
The remaining shops, if there were any.
A river filled with copper pennies.
And mind your feet if you'll beg my pardon,
or you'll trip over part of the weird indoor garden.
It lived in this town for twenty five years,
I've lived in this town for twenty five years.
And like an old mall, I have that identity.
The years of bricks that piled up what I'm meant to be.
I'll live my life, and I'll live it my truest.
But they're always gonna build another John Lewis.
But it never really goes, the fire always has embers.
There are those who are here,
and we will always remember.
