So I could see the mountains and the monsoon sky,
And the humidity made me sweat as I walked
And my old bones creaked and my mouth was dry.
So I remembered some other mountains of my life —
Those snow-capped peaks and razor sharp ridges,
And the cold air that cut through me like a knife
When I was primed to revolt and burn my bridges.
I am sitting in a kitchen and it is winter outside,
Snow is falling and it slaps against the window
Before it slides into nothing and no more,
And a song is playing on a transistor radio.
The singer is in love and he wants his love to know
How love might be if they are ever free to be alone;
And so I long for you and I yearn to be where you are
On the other side of a city that I have scarcely known.
That was fifty years ago and you are gone, long dead.
You were a victim of the demons who reign even now,
And I was a victim of you and the spell you cast on me
And yet the fault was all mine and I broke my vow.
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