The Quiet Ways

Has this time misshapen me?
Budding branch on fallen tree
I'm not who I used to be
I am not who I used to be
Budding branch on fallen tree

My new reply when nothing calls
A poem read, a painted wall
Sad is sometimes beautiful
This sadness can be beautiful
A poem read, a painted wall

When this dream comes to an end
My introvert, my winter friend
Will you hide with me again?
Will you hide with me back here again?
I need you, my winter friend

What of this will stay the same?
The slowing down, the smaller days
The quiet ways that we have changed
The quiet ways that we have changed
The slowing down, the smaller days

Has this time misshapen me
Budding branch on fallen tree
I'm not who I used to be
I am not who I used to be
Budding branch on fallen tree