The Times of Old

When the days get foggy and the nights get cold
I shiver and wistfully think of times of old
When life was simple yet happy

But the more I think the more I consider
Maybe it was different
Maybe nostalgia has tilted my view
Maybe 'out with the old and in with the new'

But then I shake my head of these thoughts
These lying, evil thoughts

But I am conflicted what to believe
And what to discard
So when the fog clears and the sun rises
I hungrily look back to the old for advice

Back when, I realize with shock
The days got foggy and the nights got cold

For times are not new nor old I now realize