Old pair of Jeans

Like an old pair of jeans I refuse to throw out
Though my mother says they can no longer be jeans
Made them into a bag, which is never far from me
We can’t be what we were, nor what we were made for
Its too old and worn-out
There is no strength to support a life like that
So take our memories, sew them to my bag to keep it strong
Lyrics and maps keep us connected
It will never be thrown out or completely forgotten
It has made us what we are today
The cigarette in my trembling hand
The script in your pocket
Maybe someday I will be healed and whole
Instead shards of happiness
I’ll be able to love without regret and fear
I’ll stop hurting myself and you
I hope you’ll wait for that day