How did we get here? How the hell-pan left, close on the steeple of the church.
How did I get here, how the hell?
Christmas! Christmas eve, last year.
How could a night so frozen be so scalding hot?
How can a morning this mild be so raw?
Why are entire years strewn on the cutting room floor of memory,
When single frames from one magic night,
Forever flicker in close up on the 3-D Imax of my mind.
Thats poetic- thats pathetic.
Why did Mimi knock on Roger's door?
And Collins choose that phone booth back where Angel set up his drums.
Why did Maureen's equiptment break down?
Why am I the witness and when I capture it on film,
Will it mean that it's the end and I'm alone?