Your song came to my head
It's not a song I wrote or that could be read
Long hair bleeding and bled
That came to my head
And now I dream in my bed
Of your song and those words never said
Heart of a lost winter
With broken branches of disconnected embrace
Sound like you song was never sang aloud
And I'm buried
And I've drowned
But when I wake to this tune of embers seeking profound
Seems like the dream of you is still around
Souls entangled in other lands
And the break of earth that seeps out mosses
Soft places to hide tiny mice
It's here
No there
That song is still around
So I hold it to myself
A miser to my heart
But, like I said before
I didn't write it
I don't know what it's for
