To pass between, these winter walls,
|
While traveling at night,
|
Taken by reflection,
|
I mine my life
|
The trees have seen me come this way,
|
Many times at any hours.
|
They stand on both sides,
|
And greet me, as I pass.
|
A time and place, where winter begins,
|
I see inspiring sights.
|
Reminiscent of years gone by,
|
I mine my life.
|
I am, being expected,
|
by those who are waiting at home.
|
Taking caution,
|
knowing I'm guided by white lines covered in snow.
|
On occasion I pass through,
|
From the life I build,
|
To the life I knew.
|
Only the trees would have seen,
|
Who held the wheel.
|
Only they would have seen,
|
When I grew tired of travel.
|
Only the trees would have seen,
|
Who held the wheel.
|
Only they would have seen,
|
When I lost control.
|
In desperate times, in such desperation,
|
This long road traveled once left me behind.
|
Now used, for gaining momentum,
|
The theme of it all,
|
Defines my life.
|
|
-----------------
|
Crossing the 45th Parallel
|
| Woods Of Ypres |
