Season of the Fall

Season of the Fall
I am an old man, I am the writing on the wall
I�ve seen a few but they will say that I have seen it all
Not a lot of confidence
Even less of self esteem
These are my means of transportation
Hey or I can�t move at all
I am the witness of the future and the remnant of the past
I roll in oceans I will always sing the song that fails to last
Bones and bakeries
And all that lies in between
These things will shape the weight of presence
With the first stone that is cast
I am a mirror, I am the side of some old barn
I cannot hear you, I am far farther than long gone
Patience and practicals may never have been
That is the means of emulation
In the season of the fall
It's not time for that reality
It's not time for some old charm
In the end a near fatality
Broken minds and broken hearts
I am a picture of the answer
I'm a means unto the end
I am the slowest of all dancers
And I dance without a friend
Don't pause for those concessions
If you know what I mean
As I make my way this warm day on my stroll across the green
I will be making my own way on my stroll across the green