Walking along this beaten path All the fallen leaves resemble a wet tongue of Oranges red browns And in the crisp air a bird chirps with recognition All of his friends flew away for the winter He makes the best of it The sun is shining with a cold pink behind the trees It's falling My breath is all cloudy and mist The day is dying but that's alright It'll come back tomorrow Like my own personal Jesus Christ The tale of my life The ink writing that story Is its own miracle I write the next chapter Like turning water into wine