the last of the repercussions died off real slow 

and the sky was still 

and the cold sun sank down beneath the snow 

I hung by my hand from the tree outside 

and I looked at the whole wide world. 



when the voices came quietly. 

I shut them down. 

when a tricky young southerly wind 

came at me with its high whistling sound. 

I turned around to face it 

with real arrogance burning inside. 

and I drank in the whole wide world