Why is it always the end of an era? We never hear that the era began, or that the era carried on.
Do eras always end?
At the end of the era, is there a bang? A whimper? A glimmer of what could have been?
At the end, there must be fond memories, a sense of pride for what was.
Perhaps, a bit a of nostalgia. A sweet hint of melancholy, because, apparently
All good things must come to an end.
Why must they, though? Why all these ends of eras and good things ending?
Can't the good go on and the eras carrying on carrying on?
Asking for a friend, standing now at the end of an era, watching
The good things come to an end.
My friend, she's feeling pretty nostalgic. Hell, I'd say she's even pretty sad.
She wished (so hard she wished) that the good could keep on going.
She prayed (Lord, she did pray) that the era would have no end.
Yet, the end came. The good, it ended.
She stands now on the divide. The space between what was and the dark unknown
Of What Is Going To Be.
She's feeling pretty sad, and yes, a little scared.
No one ever talks about what happens after the end of an era, or what comes next
When all good things come to an end.
So now she wants to know- needs to know.
Is it a bang? A whimper? A glimmer?
Again, asking for my friend, whose there, standing at the end.
I hope, for her sake, that when the era ends something good will begin.
