As I dream about morrow,spend my nights and my days in wonder, come winter come, and speak to me.. Like that old man on the hill, tell me the answers to my fate.. Solve the ineffable mysteries of my soul.. The ever troubling doubts of mankind that surround me before I sleep, "Does she love me??", "Is there enough bread in the future??" and what about my own peculiar dreams of falling from great heights, and the one in which I scramble across the beach to the ocean and drown.. In one, I recede into the rainforests, and return, old, like the old man.. Come winter come, and answer me.. Answer me, why am I thriving, why me? Where has the tranquility, and the mute silence receded? Answer me, in bright daylight, when shall I return to me? Where is that morning I dream of before I go to bed, when all that happens will make sense, when all that happens will fall in place...
Come, answer me, in the disguised, quietest corners of my head, whisper, awaken, enlighten..
Come, answer me, in the disguised, quietest corners of my head, whisper, awaken, enlighten..
