The Approaching Dusk

Autumn left as it came
Cloudy but the leaves have all changed
Colder winter is here
Freezing air crisp and so clear
Light grows short again
Will this winter end?

I will, I will resurrect what we were
I will, I will wash my skin
Become pure

I guess that I am to blame
Stasis, yeah you never change
Scenery, it looks out of place. Repentance is not to your taste
Angles become smooth as night distorts the truth

I will, I will resurrect what we were
I will, I will wash my skin
Become pure

A clock ticks down a cold sun
Your actions cannot be undone
Slow hours and more of the same
Still searching for someone to blame
The lights about to fade on our grand charade
Angles become smooth as night distorts the truth

I will, I will resurrect what we were
I will, I will shed my skin
Become pure