The wilderness wants my soul
For better or worse, it wants to eat me whole
But I won't let it in, I won't let it try
Maybe I'm empty, or too close to say goodbye
You look with faces, deranged in the snow
All I ever wanted was for the wind to blow
Now tulips grow towards the East
London, Berlin, Mediterranean Sea
How to respond to thee?
With a word on a wing
Like the leaf clings to the tree
I only knew you for three weeks