My sweetest Decembers
Standing where I am not knowing where I stand
I look on ahead, I do not know what I see
Illusions are they made of fond memory?
Walking because I have to walk but I dont know where I go
Looking back I see the the path I had been on
That is where I want to be back in my own history
I am very lost but I have to walk
Why must I walk I do not know
How many times has it been?
Oh so many, so many jumbled up pieces of red string
In autumn leaves, or sunflower bushes
In foggy windows, in dusty heat
But for me it was all just winter
So very very sweet december
So many pieces of jumbled red strings
I wish they would go away, for when they do its wonderful
Just me and ...