Threads

And in the light of morning
I left my bed and street
Pass the park and bench
Where we no longer meet
I found a path forgotten
Green and overgrown
I followed my own footsteps
I walked there on my own

Threads
Something's pulling me, I move ahead
Threads
What is holding is also being held

A weeping willow
And all the trees around
With all their branches rising
To light what is found
At first appeared so heavy
The branches leaning down
But then I saw the low they go
They never touch the ground

Threads
Something's pulling me, I move ahead
Threads
What is holding is also being held