The air is turning cold again and I've been sitting sleepless writing songs to try and reignite that fire that burned inside us,
cause when I close my eyelids I'm afraid I'll wake up as an old man justifying a forgettable legacy of worn out stories of "could haves" and "almosts" and places that I've never been.
I guess I'm just trying to come to terms with the brevity.
I guess it's taking longer than I thought.
I've seen what happens when our brazen hearts grow tired.
Valves and ventricles get tarred up and out of rhythm.
We're not as strong as we let on
but we can work these muscles back to life
and find our balance, and keep the atrophy in check.
I'm sitting some where in the rise and fall of all of this,
trying to remind myself that the hopeless feeling that will come with the winter solstice can only take a hold of me if I let it.
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