November

The past we seek some certainty
The seasons we remember
The light of May and darkest days
The month we call November

To leave behind the wasted time
And every bad decision,
And harder still, some force of will
To feel we are forgiven

But something stays
So who am I to say
There's nothing more between us?
And I don't know the reasons.

Nothing's clear.
I've come to no conclusions.
Said and done -
Is it all said and done?

So here we are, not very far
From when we said forever.
And all we have, this restless past,
The month we call November.

"November" - by Duncan Sheik


(dedicated to a /log)