I first met you at the Zephyr station

years ago,not knowing where to go,

so we took a little time on a vacation

exploring the treasures high and low,

we found red berries on a tree so tall

and I kept them in my pocket to hide.

The trip ended and I have never felt so small,

everything was dark and I was floating on a tide

thinking of you and the things you said,

I reach in my pocket and my hands turn red,

the berries have died and now illusions in my head

of sweet, high pitched voices and I know I’m not dead,

the truth is now here and I look inside the ring

to see that birds don’t whistle, they sing.