Mist is in the air
seeping through my pores;
I look for you,
bathed in the cold.

Time and time again,
I hear eerie tones.
like the song of cicadas,
under Shumard oak.

Debated where you were
mystery unsolved.
The story of old,
Me vs. my own mind.

Afternoon fades off
still, debated unsolved.
to the song of cicadas,
to face each other once more.

Lost in your thoughts
and dreams
heading somewhere
that never seems to be reached...
     Write to me when you make it there,
       so that I know it's possible.

How do I find it?
the way home seems so hard.
walk over mountains,
hope the mountains won't collapse.
what day is today?
the day I meet my chance...
the chances are, I don't know how
far I can walk

I know the trees talk
              the trees talk
they call my name so clear and proud
what do they say when I'm not around?

Find me a willow tree
so I can rest my head
when the morning breaks
hope to find my bed instead
what day is today?
the day I find my place
but the chances are, I don't know how far
I can walk

I know the trees talk
              the trees talk
I wonder if they'll answer if I ask
Don't leave here
fruits may be poison
don't leave me here
the way home is what I seek
    Find me a house with the lights on
                                  with the food warm
                                  with the bed firm
    Find me a house with the clock on
                                  compass north
               So I can find my way home.