AWA

Autumn

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  • 2010.02.23
  • 8:01
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歌詞

Driven through by her own sword, summer died last night, alone. Even the ghosts huddled up for warmth. Autumn has come to my hometown. Friendly voices, dead and gone, singing, Star of the country down... (even the ghosts help raise the barn, here, now, in my hometown) --when, out of the massing that bodes and bides, in the cold west, flew a waxwing, who froze and died against my breast! All the while, rain, like a weed in the tide, swans and lists, down on the gossiping lawns, saying tsk tsk tsk. I may have changed. It's hard to gauge. Time won't account for how I've aged. Would I could tie your lying tongue, who says that leaving keeps you young. I have got no control over my heart, over my mind. Over the hills, the rainclouds roll. I'll winter here, wait for a sign to cast myself out, over the water, riven like a wishbone. You'd hardly guess I was my own mother's daughter; I ain't naturally given to roam. I lay low, when I return, and I move like a gurney whose wheels are squeaking, alone, here in my home, and I laugh, when you speak of my pleasure-seeking among the tall pines, along the lay-lines. Here, where the loon keens. There, where the moon leans. There, where I know my violent love lays down, in a row of silent, dove-gray days. Here, in a row of silent, dove-gray days. Wherever I go, I am snowbound by thoughts of him whom I would sun. I loved them all, one by one. Cannot gain ground, cannot outrun; but time marches along. You can't always stick around. But, when the final count is done, I will be in my hometown. I will be in my hometown.

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