Meet me at the Parkside.

Meet me at the parkside
By the old brick wall on the southside
Place your hand around this cold heart of mine
And tell me how you have run out of hours,
How the days are never wide enough
But still there is all the time in the world for me.
Let birds fly by without hearing,
How wings and feet and time
Go by without a look in.
So the colder that it grows
The deeper that we go.
Till it’s too late to be anywhere
Other than here.

Meet me at the parkside.