Consider the snow,
that breaks into spring.
The clouds that may say
your hiding within.
Or that they could mean:
All dark things return?
The strength of the seasons,
to show no concern.
But in your questioning eyes
we are far
far from summer
far from the hours of peace
Another night is gone
in strange, hazy dreams.
The heat faded out.
Your sun : some machines!
Rain falls into your days.
Not drowning, pulsating.
This world isn't grey!
You're not hesitating!
But in your questioning eyes
we are far
far from summer
far from the hours of peace
A black november grave.
Wet, cold - fogging wood.
We have stopped here.
Reflecting past, understood!
We all move in a circle.
In a pale shining light!
But there is so much beauty!
Respect the natures pride!
Questioning eyes.
Why are we far?
far from summer
far from the hours of peace
