We are troubled like the wind
During November rain;
Unaware of which direction
To take,
Blinded by the tears cried
By the clouds we cut through.
There's always next year
But there's also now
With plenty of room to rest
On bare branches.
We are troubled like the wind
During November rain;
Unaware of which direction
To take,
Blinded by the tears cried
By the clouds we cut through.
There's always next year
But there's also now
With plenty of room to rest
On bare branches.