Everything Happens To Me
P
Peter S. Quinn
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Everything happens to me
Like frosty roses on a window
Something for tomorrow to be
In the early morning glow
Yesterday was somewhere around
In its steps and under load
Now again my heart is found
Taking a new way and road
Everything so easily going
Filling the woes of the hours
Without forever really knowing
These weaving minutes’ flowers
Love song from the autumn gone
Into the new and upcoming
Turning the roads that were done
Like a chord of breeze strumming
Everything just for a while
In its corners and flight of here
Structured in timeless style
Of distances’ to its somewhere
Coming some and going some
Everything on the moving
Easy going or coming from
Its music flowing of easy grooving…
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