|
Little parcels of the past |
|
are spinning down towards |
|
the gyre |
|
And a sinuous truth unvoiced |
|
is stretching up forever |
|
higher |
|
Leaves of places, |
|
leaves of friends |
|
are blowing in the wind and |
|
falling |
|
But my ship carves |
|
through the rain |
|
to the place that I am |
|
going |
|
Trepidation, |
|
you gotta be mistaken |
|
It was an endless time ago |
|
You gotta, gotta let it go |
|
Trepidation, |
|
you gotta be mistaken |
|
It was an endless time ago |
|
You gotta, gotta let it go |
|
Tiny particles of light |
|
have travelled in a wave to find me |
|
A hundred million light-years past, |
|
but still they seem to find a way to blind me |
|
Storms of old, |
|
I never told, |
|
last year they were all the rages |
|
All the sciences of motion |
|
cannot calculate my changes |
|
Trepidation, |
|
you gotta be mistaken |
|
It was an endless time ago |
|
You gotta, gotta let it go |
|
Trepidation, |
|
you gotta be mistaken |
|
It was an endless time ago |
|
You gotta, gotta let it go |
|
Trepidation, |
|
you gotta be mistaken |
|
It was an endless time ago |
|
You gotta, gotta let it go |
|
Trepidation, |
|
you gotta be mistaken |
|
It was an endless time ago |
|
You gotta, gotta let it go |
