Sounds Good You and I will spend the winter pulling out the thorns and splinters. Suffering from good intention. Weighing cure against prevention. Acting as if it really mattered, after all the girls have scattered. Running from the words unspoken. Like I said, " If it ain't broken...." Soon the sun will come to warm us. No one's left to not inform us. I say we spend some time together. To hell with work and the weather. Once again we'll have the old days. We'll resurect them from the decay. I wouldn't change one or the other. Sounds good when you call me "brother ".