the song that plays is history of lovers. i'm bringing it all back home. because i see myself turning slowly to sugar. i see myself turning to water, i see myself turning to vinegar, kept overlong in the cellar

is this decomposition? is it age? am i old or am i young, i think i'm old, i think i'm very very old and tired as that tree over there

bent by the wind. relentlessly driven to shake loose the leaves

i cannot stop myself from contemplating greater things. i don't always like where it all takes me. contemplating a lie. something has taken my past from me

made it seem

like a decimated thing

full of cage and sadly void of free

i'm bringing it all back home. i'm finding the blue car crashed against the pine tree, down the red cliff

across from the old mine

by the look of it

took the turn far too fast