Passionately Confused
The sweet smell of life, In a bitter world
How the autumn leaves start to paint a scene, so beautiful to dream,
Then a cold wind blows us in a whirl, and tangles us like curls,
Landing on our feet, may not be as flat as it may seem,
Peace in our hopes, drained and lost, but not yet grasped enough on this steep slope,
How can I let love glide by, when the wings on cupid drag the sky,
Makes the ground grow, to flow enough to be with love on the up most high,
I don't know why I want to cry...