Wildflowers in the Graveyard

There are wildflowers springing up at the graveyard
an oak tree that's been standing here so long,
and dandelions pretty in the sunshine
til the wind blows and they're gone.

Blue skies make me think winter's never coming.
Feelings always feel like they'll never end.
And my whole life I've been working hard at changing,
but now I'm just sinking in.

And I'm walking to the edge of where the river meets the sky,
holding my head up and closing my eyes,
and all the answers I've been hoping to find
are written in the water.

Clouds are rolling over.
Snake, she sheds her skin.
And the wolves are calling out as the moon circles 'round,
casting shadows on the hillside as their voices rise again.
Oh, and I'm walking to the edge of where the river meets the sky
holding my head up and closing my eyes,
and all the answers I've been hoping to find
are written in the water.

Written in footsteps that crawl across the snow,
written in memories that change each time they're told.
All the answers I've been hoping to find
are written in the water.