Those distant days,
In the cities of light
Where we were born,
When things were clear,
Where things were as they should be.
What a maze,
Back from here to there,
Of endless turns
With no idea
Which one is right.
We exiles in the wilderness
Give each other comfort
Shuffling tangos in the moonlight
On the crunching forest floor.
We create a moment\'s tenderness
To the steady beat
Of one, two three four...
Then climbing up the hillside
Through the jutting pines,
The trees welcome us,
As long as we climb
And don\'t complain
About the sting of winter
Or the thin and meagre air.
They\'re immune to such things
Being no strangers to the sadness
Of the seasons.
They know we don\'t belong there.
And from the hilltop
A view of hazy mountains
Dancing into vanishing.
That lost time and place
Is hidden
By things desired
And forgotten,
Bonds broken
As the world turns
And the sun sets every day
On us all.
But those distant days are there still.
Waiting for me, I know,
And for anyone who can
Defeat the years,
the fears,
the doubt
The past
The future
The now,
With a refusal to die
Far from where we belong,
Exiled and alone.