Nothing calms me like the bare trees in late February
Nothing screams “serenity” like the winding wet concrete
Nothing soothes my soul like the mailboxes flying past my window

The music fills the voids
Gives me a little more to think about
Than what is real

Where is the life I long for?

In my hands
Or down the wire

It is uncertain
It is in pieces

I am simple

Let this wind blow through my hair
Let it separate me from myself

I am happy