The trail has been washed away
You can see it in a tree you might find
A bohemian will notice how high I’ve been
And wonder about what I left behind
I can’t make a plan for my heart
I am only embraced by my memories
Captured restlessness, all in one place
So my troubles can write a new story
How can I tell you where we to meet?
Is it good enough that I want you to go?
Can you live a life that is unknowing
Except for what the magic tells us so?