You're not the only one
Who wakes up feeling stuck
and hoping seasons fall asleep
to dream you up some better luck
When you and sidewalks talk
It's not an argument
They like to conjure up old wraiths
from when you stood in better stead.
So what's left now but one more Fall?
And after that, it's more of the same again
Seasons come and go, that's how
the mountains get so tall
Too easy just to chock it up
to thinning blood
and fast failing memory
Hard to say
that each year's still weighing the same
We'll paint the town
with a broad brush
in brightest hues
But that won't change a thing.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 7:36 PM UTC
You're not the only one
Who wakes up feeling stuck
and hoping seasons fall asleep
to dream you up some better luck
When you and sidewalks talk
It's not an argument
They like to conjure up old wraiths
from when you stood in better stead.
So what's left now but one more Fall?
And after that, it's more of the same again
Seasons come and go, that's how
the mountains get so tall
Too easy just to chock it up
to thinning blood
and fast failing memory
Hard to say
that each year's still weighing the same
We'll paint the town
with a broad brush
in brightest hues
But that won't change a thing.
Derivative? Guilty.
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