It seems like when I’m all alone I’m with nobody else.
It’s as if there’s no one else around except myself.
Like now, for instance, look around and I nobody see.
Is there a lack of company or is it just me?
It reminds me of the place where something once was,
A place that used to stand right there, but now nothing does.
All the things that happened there were local events,
Then the place was gone, and so they haven’t happened since.
Oh, the place where something once was.
“Was it stolen?” No, don’t call the fuzz.
“Why is it gone?” Simply becuz
It’s the place where something once was.
Some say the future and the past don’t really exist;
“It’s always right now,” so the sages insist.
It’s as true this instant as it was yesterday,
And I bet tomorrow it will still be that way.
You know, perhaps what once was hereabouts
Was fictitious, but I really have my doubts.
I always eschew the absolutes.
Could it be that faux and for real are in cahoots?
I know a place where something was here.
Now it’s not, it’s not even near.
“Is it invisible?” So it would appear.
It’s a place where something was here.
They don’t make ‘em like they used to—Lord knows they never did.
It may not be a lost art, but it’s certainly well hid.
It can’t be replicated—go Google it and see;
There must not be a recipe for creativity.
Infinity, by definition, has to run both ways ∞
So I suppose, it will be back one of these days.
I may be someone else by then and miss it. If I do,
Set your timer and remind me, please. I’m counting on you.
Yes, I’ve been here when something was there.
You ain’t seen nothing like it, I declare.
Maybe I’m just biased, to be fair,
But if you’d of viewed it, man, when it was there!