31 winters or, under, under gray skies
the winter is drawing like a hand around my heart
my feelings stopped thawing, begin to get hard
the winter sky crawling, the days growing cold
i’m tired of needing but compromise grows old
and i wish i could find warmth in somebody’s sun
and leave all our feelings between us, just get warm
its a cold life without love, a love of your own
and that old bitter compromise beckons me, beckons me home
i’ll put on my warm coat and wait, wait for the winter to go
and wait out the pain and the rain and feeling so low
i’m alone and its hard but i’ll make it if i try
i’ll get cold; heart of ice but i know i won’t die.
gallagher
30 oct 78
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
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