Only in a world of speculation
What might have been
And what has been
Point to one end
Which is always present
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose garden
What might have been
And what has been
Point to one end
Which is always present
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose garden
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