If the science worked out, I'd go back,
when I'd smile at the stars and enjoy the moon.
I'd revive the remnants of me,
that are buried deep down in the sea.

I'd take a step back and say thank you,
if the clock would listen to my words.
And if the wind was at least considerate,
I wouldn't say I'm sorry this late.

It never comes back, they say,
the past is who we were before now.
Either awakens our dreams or crushes us,
but the sun will still smile in any case.