The grays of December
The chill in the morning
Like a touch from a ghost to my nose
Memories flash through my mind
Of winters past
Bitter sweet in the burning cold
The grays of December
And that greyhound keeps prancing on
Through the gray city up north
And down south the only gray I see is
The lonely strand of elden hair on my chin this morning
The grays of December
And the overtime is overflowing
The birds are retreating
The liquor is warmer
The people are lonelier
And the grays keep on showin
Another December
Another shade of gray to see
Until spring comes
But for now
I’ll drink to the grays of December
And those who relish in it
-m.
Of Sand and Bone 