A time that revolved around Sunday morning shows
I was too young to have packed my own clothes
Your landline was my mother's only choice
To know what we were up to, our secrets and noise.
Come the years with your texts on a touch screen
Still nine months apart yet both seventeen
One grew up first but the other was ahead
She met Woodlands while all I saw was Red.
A family of five started arriving without the daughter
But the presence of the other boys doesn't falter
The north became our home yet we never crossed
With the other's void filled, we never felt lost.
A one-room flat and reluctant shaking of the hands
Hide the heartbreaks and ceasing true friends
The fabric of our skirts brush, your knee against mine
After three years on different tracks, the feet realign.
Over an absence the recklessness was caught
Only this time she is the first in thought
Despite the opposite roads where we grew far
We finally sing the same songs in her car.
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