The Winters Have Not Yet Come
Crawl past the Indian summer days
The sky is parched like broken clay
And in my air conditioned bed you say
That the winters have not yet come
The Winters Have Not Yet Come
Crawl past the Indian summer days
The sky is parched like broken clay
And in my air conditioned bed you say
That the winters have not yet come
The sunset creeps beyond the hills
An autumn breeze my window chills
You swear to me that heartbreak kills
And the winters have not yet come
In my mind the clock just struck
A quarter past thirteen
And I'm waiting for the wind to carry me away
In the ticking as the moments pass
Like silver drops of rain
I hear your heartbeat--and wonder
Do I make you real?
And the winters have not yet come
We are gods and yet only children
And the winters have not yet come
(c) 1999, Ember Dumas