On the south side of the road going nowhere
Winter wind letting the chill into my bones
Standing tall, as if I don’t care,
Acting like I’m supposed to be there
As if lost highways had a need to be somebody’s home
Nothing much out there for miles, only horizon
And power lines above that stretch on out of sight
Standing still, as if my motion
Would hurt the sky with its commotion
As if I could change the world but didn’t have the right
If you wonder if I’m leaving
How you’ll know when I am gone
Look for the ripple left behind me
on the surface of the pond
If you want to know the reason
Why nothing golden seems to last
Know that each thing has its season
And fades away when its time is passed.
On the south side of a road leading nowhere
Winter sun setting slowly over a hill
Standing here, as if I’m growing
Acting like there’s no place else to be going
As if I could stop the world just by being stiil
Nothing out there for miles in all directions
Just the echo from an airplane high overhead
Standing still, as its reflection
Fades slowly beyond all detection
As if the last word in a book no longer read.
If you wonder if I’m leaving
How you’ll know when I am gone
Look for the ripple left behind me
on the surface of the pond
If you want to know the reason
Why nothing golden seems to last
Know that each thing has its season
And fades away when its time is passed.
18 JAN 2006
