Written by: Clay Young jr.

Where? A gentle breeze blows A lead wing flies First sight of stormy skies Before tomorrow comes and goes The winds of change are static Nothing always stays the same But the direction of the rain Would rather be a weathervane Its fickle constant, automatic Woke up to a tornado Woke up to a hurricane With no time to brace myself From the current of the wind and rain State of disaster, who knows? Are you in the heart of it all? Or are you in my heart? Where the sea meets the sand? Where the mitten’s made of land? Where couples are only texts and phone calls? Where strangers are just miles apart? Where hometowns are hallowed grounds Where a foreign family surrounds? Where youth dies out, and falls? Where we celebrate the birth of art? Where life is living out our dreams? It’s never as simple as it seems Though I have loved them all It’s getting hard to tell them apart