Follow me to the snow,
where we belong.
No path is the wrong path
even though they insist it is.
Sometimes there’s no exit-
sometimes we can’t really tell…
but they are jogging aimlessly
and we are their diversion.
I’ll hate to say goodbye
because as the snow melts
and our memories blur,
only dirt remains.
But maybe green will grow
against all grain and will.
Whatever future brings,
I won’t forget… our special path.
And yes, they hated it.
