The binder I hold is full of memories
Of each person with their own biographies
The empty slots here still need to be filled
So I get out the pile, and start the rebuild
I glance at each photo, remembering the moments
Flip it over, and read the dates and comments
I sort each photo by event and age
Paste each one to their best-fit page
Sometimes I'd pick up a treasured and special one
And drift into a dream of wonder and fun
Then place it in a spot to never be abandoned
Thanking the Lord that day actually happened
I don't care if the others have forgotten what I know
I will hang on to this album, and never let go
