A new place,
A new group,
A new bunch of notes to be lugged;
 |
Doth Thou Spake English? |
Same old soup,
Same old desire to be hugged.
Through the doors,
it was once a boundary between hot and cold;
Though it's so,
Now the roles are reversed,
Like those of a son and his old.
Through the glass,
it was once a flurry of leaves glistening in the sun;
Though it's so,
Now the colour's a-changing,
And soon they will be gone.
Through the days,
it was once the joy and fear of a kid;
Though it's so,
Now I must grow up,
Must the spirit be hid?
A new path,
A new post,
A new variation of the flu;
Same old laugh,
Same old ghosts,
Same old hope of something new.
