They knew, you know,
It was all revolving, evolving
A new beginning from an end
That rejected me in its
Writhing rebirth
They had only to wave me in
I would have bent my purpose to them
And folded into their darkness
But I will not restring this bow
I am broken
I will go
I will sing soft words of sorrow
To the hard frost of the morning
It will be the same old song
If you know the words
Face down the wind and I
Might hear you sing along.