My first recollection is a day in december
Black iron steam engine covered in ice
Like some precambrian monster
Moaning and snorting
Nothing was ever going to beat that beast
In a fair fight
Ive sat and watched the woodpiles
Grow through the summer
Now Im sitting, smelling summer burn through the fall
Winters coming on, days getting dreary
And Im thinking this is the season
That I leave you all
Ive heard a man in crisis
Falls back on what he knows best,
A murderer to murder
A thief to theft
And I dont want you to think
That this is some kind of deathbed confession
But run is what I did when put to the test
My first recollection is a day in december
747 tracing lines through the sky
Like some old gypsy curse
Silently preying upon the dreams of those
Who jealously watch life pass by
Ive sat and watched my troubles
Pile through the summer
Now Im sitting, hearing my youngest cry
Down the hall
Winters coming on, days getting dreary
And Im thinking this is the season
That I leave you all
Ive heard that the son must bear
The burdens of the father
But its the daughter that is left
To clean up the mess
And I dont want you to think
That Im asking for absolution,
But run is what I did when put to the test