Stories That Get Told

I should see you walk in from our garden

The sun a soporific on your shoulder blades

And you should kick your shoes off at the door

And mark me with the pollen on your fingertips

Instead December brought the pouring rain

The whimsy of the season

Dampened by the day

And sometimes changes is incremental

To the point we can convince ourselves

We're still the same

But as the street lights flicker on

Under skin and bone

We're all awash

With something borrowed

And everything I want

Is at rest between these walls

Someday we'll all be

Stories that get told

But told incorrectly

But our trail won't grow cold

Our trail won't grow

Our trail won't grow cold, cold

So now we watch you walking in our garden

And what a many splendoured sight you are to see

And there'll be dancing, there'll be scars

But you're my garden

You're my garden

You were grown from me

So when you leap

You must leap longingly

And leap across

The length and breadth

Of legacy

For in this garden

We will write for you

A story you will learn by heart

Then long to leave

And as the street lights flicker on

Under skin and bone

We're all awash

With something borrowed

And everything I want

Is at rest between these walls

Someday we'll all be

Stories that get told

But told incorrectly

But our trail won't grow cold

Our trail won't grow

Our trail won't grow cold, cold