| Lyrics |
not much of this makes sense to methe river leaves run cold and drybut it keeps me from swinging tree to treebut sometimes I'm too scared to even tryhashing through the possibilitiesthey seem as endless as the skyyou seek the truth and the quiet breezebut the air is too thin to replywell I know that's where I'll never bebecause I can see the summer's done
I try to let the river flow in and out of meand pray I float the way I think I wantand pray I float at alldistant notions of subtle residuecling to minds from our pasttell us what is what and who made whobut time's events move us too fastsimple sentiments whisked away by anxious steel woolstruggling to content ourselves with what we think bestthat what makes happy of which we seem never fullis actually more than plentythough it is already possessedconfusion feigns clarity scattered delusions excuses destinyit's never exactly how it appears to betoo much for any of us who even try to see
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