Paper Chase

Sad November

And I don’t feel like dancing

Tie up the maypole

Wind will tangle with chains

Park is empty

And all the loose ends flying

No love to hide

And I don’t feel like games

I see that funny smile

Written on your face

The pieces flying

Like a morning paper-chase

Paper chase

I watch them slowly drifting down

And they’re all out of place

And I could never rebuild them now

To the smile on a face

I have no mind

For brush or paints

Sad December

And I don’t feel like painting

With only charcoal

And I need colour-chains

I see that funny smile

Written on your face

The pieces flying

Like a morning paper-chase

I follow them

Like footprints

And I try to retrace

And like a blind man, seeking miracles

And in my stumbling pace

I feel to find your hiding place