The seventies never really sounded like this...
...not that it matters.
...not that it doesn't.
Nothing ever is as it was, but there's beauty in the here and now.
When I think back on the past, I tend to remember it as being better than it really was. My mind lingers along the detailed roads of a previous relationship, but rather than glaring at the stop signs I should have seen, I take in the beautiful scenery. It's too late to change the outcome of yesterday, but that shouldn't prevent one from finding a bit of beauty there.
I try to never forget that the past can be a friend or a foe.
The past as a friend: "...there was a girl and she was oh so cute." Damn right she was.
The past as a foe: "She was the one that got away." Bullshit. She was in love with another man.
...but she was beautiful.