Spring 1999 Thought it went well Had a bad spell But things are fine Now we're holding hands And we're the best of friends The weight feels like the mood of trees A reckoning of things we don't dare to perceive But then I wake And it's just a dream The calculations of my brain misfiring I'd be remiss without a mention That I'd care less is it wasn't the intention But what I think is you know What you've been up to the most And it's low