The early spring rose
In a pedaled meadow
Here next to me
And I could smell the sun swept breeze beneath
A crowing crane flew
Above me and you
Buckle up your belt
And don't you get passed up by your own self again
Aware of the gold I'd found here in my home
The bear, the bold, the rose, beauty would unfold
The flesh, muscle, and bone, breath would be foretold
I tore a page from
My spiral notebook, love
Scrawled upon the lines
And gentle cursive wrapped itself like vines
I loaded up my car
Things all thrown about
Soon I gotta leave
But I don't wanna see these streets fall behind me
Aware of the mould I'd broke here all alone
The wear, the wool, the stone, the work I'd put in closed
My chest, brothers, and soul, things I used to loathe