Sunday, September 18, 2011

seasons

Browns and greys, of rainy days
Give way to pink tree blossoms
But soon they palor, wave to days
Of frosty bitten bottoms.

a new time is coming

Pitter patter drops of dew
Hanging from the garden mews
Walking through the streets of blue
I hang my head
I carry you

Something to say, Something to say
There's no fucking way I'll get through the day

Something to say, Something to say
You're coming with me
I won't let you stay

To streets of pink and orange, unpeeled
Who says this is real
The flutter you feel

Towers of ivory
Valleys of fawn
A new time is coming

A golden dawn.