In the early days of January you think that you can change
Just because a new year comes, though sadly you remain
The person who you always were on a line, wanting more
That which can move the idle form is nestled in your very core
There's a stillness in your sails
It's time to turn the page on wasted days, helpless ways and years that you can't change
In the early days of January you walk a cold, wet street
No leash in hand or wedding band, just pine needles at your feet
Alone with thoughts, intent to change
Failure defined by what remains
The saxophone no longer plays in its cool and sexy ways
There's a stillness in your sails
It's time to turn the page on wasted days, helpless ways and years that you can't change