You know what they call this time of year

Blackberry winter always precedes a good spring

But it's hard to imagine sometimes

Anything ever melting, fully inside

But I hear footsteps in the hall

I know too many people

who fill cabinets with pills

Who listen to the news too much,

who think no one else feels

Who drive too fast, alone at night

Chasing long shadows, following the sun

But I hear footsteps in the hall

There's hope eternal, even for the skeptical

There's children and laughter

And currents under frozen streams

And I hear footsteps in the hall

You know what they call this time of month,

this time of life

Even the moon has to be new sometimes, and

I feel like an empty house,

Too many locks, too many walls

But I hear footsteps in the hall