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Argyle Goolsby

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Argyle Goolsby

Thickets

Winter conspires to consume the fires of summer love
Snowflakes are itching to undo the stitching of our blue skies
We danced in the days of love
We danced in the days of love
We danced in the days of love
Where's our blue skies?

Thickets are swelling, their tendril mass dwelling upon our path
Grey haze of twilight construe rays of sunlight to weakened beams
We danced in the days of love
We danced in the days of love
We danced in the days of love
Where's our blue skies?
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Oh please, can you tell me now who froze the stream?
Oh please, can you tell me now who froze the stream?
Whereupon we leaned against wildwood trees
and where the whispering water had bouyonced our dreams

I swear that no matter what this season brings
I swear that no matter what this season brings
I'll remember these days and our erstwhile ways
and the whispering water that bouyanced our dreams