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Earliest days, in calm and misty dawn |
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I can reach so far above my head with my height. |
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And I feel fit for fight, |
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With my pace I break out the light, |
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And the cool wind strengthens me to walk on by. |
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But, so far beyond my pace, |
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I watch you run over and make me feel foreign inside. |
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And don't ever call again |
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I want seven undone days. |
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A revolt of my force inside. |
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Thoughtful, early autumn-days, a chestnut in my palm |
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as I open my lover's eyes to see if they still shine. |
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Though I feel fit for fight, |
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and my pace can break out the light, |
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I need more to make me feel all right. |
