The Wind

Happy but for awhile
The good times were out of style
And April came and went
And colder than it's ever been

You'd lay in the morning time
And gaze at the ceiling, tired and low

And lately you can hear the rain
Blowing against your windowpane
Sounding like a marching drum
Rolled in for a firing gun

It once used to bring you down
But now doesn't turn you 'round, you go, you go