The Spanish moss waves a gentle good-bye
And holds nothing of itself tonight
It whispers of the day’s sweet secrets
Of things we neglected to embrace.
The summer breeze waves hello
And tells us what the day could hold
All those little things left unsaid
All the little spaces between us
In everything that should have reminded us
That sometimes love can be true
That sometimes life can be good
That night is teeming with life we lack

For the frost of death lingers on our lips
And brings icy tears to warm hearts.
We think fondly on better days of the past
That our souls should know nothing but memories
Of all the things that we should have done
And all the good things that might have been.
Let wicked tongues heal wicked minds
As we digress into our very core
And bid the ravens a holier night
Than the one we dream and ache for
The weak break their backs for life anew
While we forget all that we still cannot.