there was a story in the corner of her eye
there was a sign in the dust
that gathered up the gifts
we gave each other every now and then
there is a sadness in the way the light dies
when the dark floods the city
before the day is done
and catches us on the steps
still wondering why
and the cold is a wake up call
to me
leaves me blind and with all my nerves rattling
november
november starts
with slumber and ends in silence
there goes the image of a time that passed by
and left no traces
but the bend and the crook, the stare and the look
the stories, the books, the fox and the rook
the first snow gone stale, the grass on the rails
the soaking wet ground, the footsteps around
we seek refuge in all the bars, shivering
and get rid of our useless clothes, lingering
and the cold sounds in your ears
like a shout
every time you collect the faith
for getting out
november
november starts
with slumber and ends in silence
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