Love Grown Cold.

Today I heard a bird sing.

It had a scar on it's wing.

I followed the sweet tender rhythm.

Only to find you walking through the river.

Looking at me with a glow most foul.

Yet, not me, is where you wanted to see.

This injured bird has turned into an owl.

Now it's big, no longer a bee.

I ran to a place that no one knows.

But yet, you followed me somehow.

Even though our love was broken.

I haven't ever, ever, forgotten.

Now these memories have turned to dreams.

In the shallow and mellow stream.

Even though, for now, I'm awake.

I'll never forget your pretty face.