Oc(Blu.)Ean

If I left this town, would you say,

"My lover's lost."

Or

"My friend has just moved on,"

Or

"My enemy is gone!"

Like a leave descends a tree stricken ill with Autumn's breeze.
It will carry her voice, singing hymns of how she lost.
Through the tall grass she saw, off a swing a child falls,
A child falls.

A raindrop will fall to escape from the grip of God.
Cause His tired hands let go, now a Spring shower shows.

How ironic is the day that shows both sunshine and the rain,

And the rain.

The bitterness of ice when accompanied with night.
Is enough to let you know, Winter's darkness does not show.
The mercy of a man haunted by a ghostly friend,
A ghostly friend.

The stillness of the day, when the kids return from their play.
Or when her hands are in your hair, by the pier in Summer's air.
When he stops to look at you, summer's lovers hardly knew.

The future soon to bloom, from a raindrop a flower grew.

Say, "Goodbye my friend, I loved. Remember the painting that you drew?
Of God and a corporate man, shaking hands on a microphone stand."
When I stopped to look at

you,
I said your eyes are just as

blue.