Here's the rough.


    This is my first time drop boxing, so I hope I did it right.


    When we were young we would go down to the river and we'd wash our feet,
    And we'd bow to the ripples that moved underneath,
    And we breathed to the rhythm of a summer's eve.

    You were so wild in your step,
    That you danced to the song of a lover's lament,
    To the tune of the grass being combed by the wind,
    As you sat by the river letting go of your skin.
    Letting go of your skin.

    We lay on our backs and we looked to the sky,
    And we can't quite explain why the clouds fly so high,
    And they never stay the same though we trap them in our mind,
    Is the wind to blame?
    Is the wind to blame?

    Is the wind to blame?

    We we were young we would stare
    At the fire as it warmed up the tips of our hair,
    To our toes that were cozed up to the flicker and the flare
    And our eyes mesmerized by the light and not a care.

    You were so bold in your stance
    That you looked to the West, and your never looking back
    And your wound is so old, that your never going to crack
    Is the wind to blame?
    Is the wind to blame?

    Is the wind to blame?

    When we were young we would hold sheets to the shoreline and we'd catch the breeze
    And we let it pull us wayward 'till we're on our knees
    And we laughed at the forces that were underneath

    You are such a beauty when your free
    And I miss being shaded by the branches of your tree
    And I miss being guided by you winged company
    But our hearts must mature otherwise they blow like leaves.

    Is the wind to blame?

    I once was a child of yours but then I got lost in your home
    I once was your kind of form but then I lost track of the morning