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There's a tiny park a short walk from here where no one ever goes. Though it's always abandoned, I like to walk there when it snows                'cuz it seems like                      a relative. Don't complain to me, my friend if your face is feeling raw; It gets cold here in Montana, and December nights get long.                and they have not                    failed me yet. So salt your frigid frown and lay down bets on warmer times in five more months, the thaw will come and we just might quit rolling snake eyes. Icy air is not your enemy and neither are this small city                                               or I. The same park, it has a baseball field, leaf-covered, looking old the dugout's still in good repair, but the basepaths overgrown                remind me of,            A New Year's alone Remember one warm night when we thought we were in the mood to walk to the convenience store for some box wine and some food?                we played cards,              locked in my room... Now we're crying California tears from laughing all night long. And you don't really hate Montana, you're just doing Winter wrong. So lay your anger down and hedge your bets 'til nicer days don't stay inside, 'cuz you don't have to. Graft my smile over your grimace, this dull white-out's not the end for us and neither is the bitter cold                                                    outside.
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Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 4:38 PM UTC
Camera 1/Camera 2
There's a tiny park a short walk from here where no one ever goes. Though it's always abandoned, I like to walk there when it snows                'cuz it seems like                      a relative. Don't complain to me, my friend if your face is feeling raw; It gets cold here in Montana, and December nights get long.                and they have not                    failed me yet. So salt your frigid frown and lay down bets on warmer times in five more months, the thaw will come and we just might quit rolling snake eyes. Icy air is not your enemy and neither are this small city                                               or I. The same park, it has a baseball field, leaf-covered, looking old the dugout's still in good repair, but the basepaths overgrown                remind me of,            A New Year's alone Remember one warm night when we thought we were in the mood to walk to the convenience store for some box wine and some food?                we played cards,              locked in my room... Now we're crying California tears from laughing all night long. And you don't really hate Montana, you're just doing Winter wrong. So lay your anger down and hedge your bets 'til nicer days don't stay inside, 'cuz you don't have to. Graft my smile over your grimace, this dull white-out's not the end for us and neither is the bitter cold                                                    outside.
kyle-kulseth
Written by
M/American
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 4:38 PM UTC
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