another summer come and gone.
the sunlight falls through the trees now
we're back where we started how
did we go blind
because we surly didn't see the time.
the chalk has faded
and the pebbles worn down to sand
wiped by the wind
the sun still clasped in my hand.
I'll just play this old guitar
for a loner in time
who wants to hear the sound of hope
and love,
misguided like a dove
and as september appears
like a rolling stone
I know I'd rather be nowhere
but home.
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