february

february comes along again, now we are rust coloured stones. and i traded all my thoughts in, for an hour of sleep in the snow. and i dreamed up this old western sky, that follows me all the days. and i dreamed up this dust, my dancing feet alone. february we march with frozen hands and bones to the door, and stomp our fate in cafes, and houses and churches. today i saw two blue flowers and thought of you. and oh, it made me move, my dancing shoes. my dancing shoes, my dance feet along. when will we ever fall? i don't know. no, i don't know. and when will they ever fall?, i don't know.