The World Keeps Turning

Wind blows, my hat topples to the ground

I compose what my mind has found

Light spills through the crack in my curtain

My room fills with morning, my day all uncertain

I rise as the feeling of my dream subsides

My eyes blinking, blinking as I step outside

Wind blows wildly and free

I suppose all I need are my thoughts and me

Wind blows, my hat topples to the ground

I suppose that my eyes are round

They roll as a small smile creeps onto my face

The sun takes its toll on the people in this place

Pavement where the grass once used to be

The cement is hard beneath my feet

Wind blows, my hat falls to the ground

I suppose the world keeps turning round

Alone on a hill, goose-pimpled skin sitting still

But it's my mind that's wandering

Shadows stretching across the park to become one

In my eye, an etching of the setting of the sun

Wind blows, my hat falls to the ground

I suppose the world keeps turning round

Wind blows, my hat topples to the ground

I compose what my mind has found

Light spills through the crack in my curtain

My room fills with morning, my day all uncertain