I see the crimson fire, God
Go sinking far beyond the leafless branches
Stand like empty fingers
Reaching for the mid-December sky
I see my life in shades of different colors
Different scenes upon a stage
While there behind the footlights
Someone watches, knowing all my lines
The summer days I knew when I was younger
Seem to pass before my eyes
To say "The words within you
Must be free before your work is done"
I see the sky is paling as the crimson fire
On the far horizon
Fades into the distance
Cold and clear, the stars reveal themselves
Liner Notes to Winter '73
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