• In the fall
    The leaves around
    The squirrel's hide
    Food in the ground.

    Living a life that
    Is decided by a whim
    The glow of the moon
    Coming from within.

    Do you get it now
    What I've become
    It's all because of the few some.

    Trying to hide it
    Living a lie
    All before the
    Winters harsh eye.