One by one the days fall beside us, like yellow leaves we have no conscience, oh what we're becoming. Month by month, the rings on our tree trunks, like old wise eyes, grow wider and winter,
lends them a dead disguise. Now time- like an ocean, knows tide - like a notion, to toss about the house, and lose inside the couch. And piles of our thoughts run miles in the dark,
just tryin' to get home... Age by age, we rhyme with our seasons', rehearsed routines, still turning and returning... Now I'm wide as the ocean, now I bleed roses,
and you are just a mark on the map of my past, but I am a road, i wind along alone, all day until the coast...
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