How many roads have I wondered? None, and each my own Behind me the bridges have crumbled No question of return
Autumn leaves like discarded dreams trampled underneath a tide of careless feet it’s the same song playing everywhere I go it’s like an army marching right through me.
Nowhere to go but the horizon where, then, will I call my home?
Summer spent, in the high grass or just fragments, ransacked memories dark river snakes, across this murky hall boatman sings his downstream melodies.
How many roads have I wondered? None, and each my own Behind me the bridges have crumbled where, then, will I call my home?