Who needs a ledge when the horizon strikes so strong
Inaction honoured through the one refrained
Quartering the past away
Through taste and somber liqueurs
Drinking words, the follies of this young man

Leaning over the edge,
Legs dangling and fingers dancing
Among the strings of a weathered old guitar
Unexpected recollections in regular looking bars
Too young to buy and too old to rent
Not but a starstruck kid
In a wealthy man's land

Over rolling hills and obscured vistas
To the land of yesteryear
No longer something to alarm
Simply a whisper upon the wind