birthday seasonings

To everything, there is a season ...
It's not the birthday, it's the seasons in my life

It's the season of mourning and remembrence of Sarah
It's the season of colds and allergies and raw lips

It's the season of brain shivers, heart chills, and eye-corner tears
It's the season of emotional flatness, far as the eye can see

It's the season to combat hopelessness by not hoping,
And combat dispair by giving up all plans for my life

It's the season for small; the season for quiet sadness.
And it's the season for falling ... the season of the mess.

Do I want to be here? What alternatives do I have?
Do I want to be anywhere else? A lot of rain for one life.

Spinning, twirling, sweat makes the tears not show.
If wishes were horses, where would I go?

To everything, there is a season ...
Must be the season of the witch, yeah ...
Must be the season of the witch.