This year more than I could say that I grew.
More than I could swear I finally knew.
If its a choice, I'm not sure what I'd choose.
Its true. Outside the snow falls gently on the roof.
In the streets the cars carve out the grooves.
A song hangs in the air sung out of tune.
But, oh, when its real it can heal, it can kill, but it will not lie down.
I know. I've had it once, it was enough, but everyone who's found their love will join their hands and sing what's left for me: the minor keys.
You hide out in the air in my room.
You fill my mouth and fall out of it too,
But in the light you linger out of view.
So it goes, uproot a tree and put it in your home.
Cut down after its had its time to grow.
From its branches we can hang our hopes.