Snow covers the foothills in the winter. In autumn, summer leaves begin to fall. The taste of harvest air outside the trailer, from gravel drives, is writing on the wall. All you ever had to do was lift a finger, and you had me coming to your beckon call. Maybe it's not fair of me to wonder how much you ever cared for me at all, but I do.
The baby came that February evening, drafty bedroom warming from the stove. When I was through you cut the cord and held me, delivered of the fear and full of hope. All you ever had to do was lift a finger, and you had me coming to your beckon call. Maybe it's not fair of me to wonder, if ever you'd consider moving on, but I do.
It's been years now driving down your demons, and we've seen richer, we've seen poorer times. But baby, if you ever start to wonder if I know always I'll be by your side, I do.
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