Out of Season by Robert Ciccolini

Come take a walk with me-

come for the ride..

I just want you to talk to me,

meet me outside,

of the trap that has sprung

from the floor

of the rage we hold onto.

So many times I have stood

with my ear to the door

of our lies,

I have tallied the score

we have etched on the board,

it's a tie when we both

are deceiving.

There's a box of humility

there on the shelf,

it's not easy to reach

or so I tell myself,

or maybe it's locked by

some unknown device,

if you go first I'll go twice.

So here we stand

we're all broken,

and all of the lies

we have spoken

continue to heave,

and the signs in our windows

read closed even

when we are open.

With my staff in my hand,

with my pride on my shoulder,

my feet in your reason,

our blood on the wall,

come now I beg you

the blizzard is gone,

all that's been left is this song.

Go now

don't ever look back,

you're no fool now to act

like the dream is alive

and you know,

the love that we knew

it was true,

now it's just

out of season.