Wingin’ It

Chasing a song through the autumn leaves, wet with frigid rain,

Once I knew the words so well, this lonely dark refrain,

Now the details slip away, plays games inside my head,

Wrapped around memories on my skin, and little things you said,

 

Now I dance in the cloying mist, that settles in the trees,

Mumbling the tune I have forgotten now, riding on the breeze,

I do not hunt, I do not seek, the Tiger plays no game,

Willing now to simply see, how it all remains the same,

 

I do not look into your eyes, and seek a helping hand,

In the brown reflection I see clear, you do not understand,

Some classic rock replaces that song, that I no longer sing,

In this moment, me and my wine, I don’t regret a thing.


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