I was listening to the winter winds
With one ear leaned against the wall
Thinking of where I had been
With just myself and nothing more
What else could I have asked for?
What else could I have done?
With pages as blank as the skies above
What more could I have sung?
I dreamt a dream when I was 12
Of frozen trees and scattered grey
Into the night I stood awake
Till all my fears had strayed away
It is the frost around my reflection
Reason the season stays constant within me
The weight conceded within elation
The remedies of these tragedies
Lead to nothing but more agony
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 1:31 AM UTC
I was listening to the winter winds
With one ear leaned against the wall
Thinking of where I had been
With just myself and nothing more
What else could I have asked for?
What else could I have done?
With pages as blank as the skies above
What more could I have sung?
I dreamt a dream when I was 12
Of frozen trees and scattered grey
Into the night I stood awake
Till all my fears had strayed away
It is the frost around my reflection
Reason the season stays constant within me
The weight conceded within elation
The remedies of these tragedies
Lead to nothing but more agony
