Drawn from Orion, we bend
While picking you up through
The last days of autumn
Climbing the steps to your bed
The drifts building upwards
Like cards on a table
Towards home
Oh, winter takes me four hours away
Pick through the pines
Where we met my grandfather
He told me you looked quite the same
Your coat filled with burs
And we grinned at the thought of it.
Saying we know you'll be safe
The sun howling down
On your path to the bottom
Towards home
Time won't change
That you never looked away
If you pass so unexpectedly
And when we travel where you go
Through several weeks of snow to see
Backwards inside the lines
And you sit by my side as I read
The forest where we had just to leave you now
Oh, summer brings us back from far away
Soaked to the bone
Overlooking the garden
And though all words may have changed
You're picking me up by
The turn of the autumn