I just listen to the wind These old and tired branches Calling through the trees A whispering in my bones I call that quiet cold my home...

Feeling pretty done with Summer... Tired of the heat Craggy arid landscape You can look out over what is left And see where water ran...

If I could explain it I wouldn't be here again With these colors in my hand And these words on canvases If I could remember I'd find my...