The Circle
Saturday afternoon the sunshine pours like wine through your window
But I know golden June can turn an empty gray against your window
And I feel like I'm on the outside of a circle -
If I walk by the trees I'll catch the falling leaves if the wind blows
But I know all this means is whiling on the hours watching side-shows
Will I turn my coat to the rain I don't know
But I'm going somewhere I can warm my bones
Fare you well I'll carry me away
and sing for those I know upon their birthdays.
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