Thickets - Argyle Goolsby

Winter conspires to consume the fires of summer love

Snowflakes are itching to undo the stitching of our blue skies

We danced in the days of love

We danced in the days of love

We danced in the days of love

Where’s our blue skies?

Thickets are swelling, their tendril mass dwelling upon our path

Grey haze of twilight construe rays of sunlight to weakened beams

We danced in the days of love

We danced in the days of love

We danced in the days of love

Where’s our blue skies?

Oh please, can you tell me now who froze the stream?

Oh please, can you tell me now who froze the stream?

Whereupon we leaned against wildwood trees

and where the whispering water had bouyonced our dreams

I swear that no matter what this season brings

I swear that no matter what this season brings

I’ll remember these days and our erstwhile ways

and the whispering water that bouyanced our dreams