I took a little stroll last night
Through my hidden fields of folly
Backlit by a rusty twilight
Which cast its harsh crimson glow
Upon all the things I'd sown

Look there, can you seem them?
Ah, the gray buds of regret are
So in bloom this year
The spring up through all
The fertile ground my unforgotten past

And see there
The white shoots of conscience
Their prickly little thorns
Draw away the blood that stains
Their innocence with drops of sorrow

And now, my personal favorite
The black blossoms of rage
Running riot over all
Pushing and shoving their way
Into every little corner

I walk and walk
And all I see
Are the colors of the lost
Little things
Inside of me

But sometimes, if I stand just right
Out of the corner of my eye I see
This little hint of blue
A shock of color in all the muted shades
A hint that not everything that grows in this field

Needs to end in folly

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