Verse 1

You found the shoebox under winter coats

Dust on the lid, your name in blue

We sat cross-legged by the window

Turning years into a room

Pre-Chorus

There’s your crooked paper crown

There’s my gap-toothed grin

Every little frame brings back

The day we were in

Chorus

Old photographs, take me back

To the kitchen table, summer on the glass

Your hand in mine, that borrowed bike

The whole world small enough to fit inside

Old photographs, faded and gold

Still I can hear the stories they hold

I keep them close, wherever I go