You know what they call this time of year
Blackberry winter always precedes a good spring
But it's hard to imagine sometimes
Anything ever melting, fully inside
But I hear footsteps in the hall
I know too many people
who fill cabinets with pills
Who listen to the news too much,
who think no one else feels
Who drive too fast, alone at night
Chasing long shadows, following the sun
But I hear footsteps in the hall
There's hope eternal, even for the skeptical
There's children and laughter
And currents under frozen streams
And I hear footsteps in the hall
You know what they call this time of month,
this time of life
Even the moon has to be new sometimes, and
I feel like an empty house,
Too many locks, too many walls
But I hear footsteps in the hall
