Down by the lake it’s all Queen Anne’s Lace
Up in the hills it’s Wineberry
I stopped at a farmstand along my way
Picked up a pint of wild cherries
Older and free
To do as I please
Beholden to no one else
For the first time in weeks
Follow Lenape trail blue-orange blaze
Across the foothill to the stream
Air in my lungs and a burn in my legs
And my mind blowing wild like a sheet
Older and free
To do as I please
Beholden to no one else
For the first time in weeks
Oh the sound
The wind as it rushes through the trees
It’s poetry
Oh the sound
The leaves as they blow out of the trees
It’s poetry
Old and free
Beholden to no one but me
For the first time in weeks
Old and free
Beholden to no one but me
For the first time