From a murky window, I watch you disappear
Through dusty picture albums, your face is not so clear
there’s a photograph of you upon the wall
now you’re always here, but not at all.
With every fading light, it’s not always the death
we are all in mourning before the sun has set
there are five wind turbines across the tracks -
one of them is broken, the air is deathly still.
A litany of words,
the tyranny of enough;
when the world was in a crisis,
you chose to remember love.
There are bastards -
there are monsters.
The world is in a crisis,
I choose to remember you.
