As I lept down the path to the broken road on the left, a woman scowled.
Dreary-eyed and overfed, I’m a bumbling balloon looking forward to flying away.
But today is much finer than I thought it would be.
You’re the boy, leagues away, holding onto me, like a memory.
White lines in the sky remind me that I’m on my way.
Weighed down by gifts I thought I’d be much lighter by what I gave away,
But is seems, the world is intent on holding me down.
You’re the man I dream of when all the other boys hang around.
Fine as a fish in an inky green pool with ducklings astray.
There’s fear hiding in the cracks of the walls, unsettled by trams that make, the blocks shake and sway.
And I know as I go further from you day by day, we get close.
You’re the one with whom which I would experience the most,
With new weight I will come comfort you in our, cold southern land,
Then next year, we’ll float away together and…