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de Maple Glider

Wafting
In the eagerness of early December
I'm floating
Whilst everything I know is cascading
Down into the sinkhole

Is it warm down there?

I keep waiting through the hours of cold
Reaching for a single speck of light

I do not know this man
But he is in my bedroom unfurling
And I am uncertain that I can play as I have played before
But I am a performer, of course I'll perform

Is it warm down there?

I keep waiting through the hours of cold
Reaching for a single speck of light

I keep waiting through the hours of cold
Pressing for the Sun to come and find me

Must I bring my own torch?
Must I bring my own torch?
Must I bring my own torch?

Or are you gonna come and
Light me up
Light me up
Light me up

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