First Recollection
My first recollection is a day in December
black iron steam engine covered in ice
like some Precambrian monster
moaning and snorting
Nothing was ever going to beat that beast
in a fair fight
I've sat and watched the woodpiles
grow through the summer
now I'm sitting, smelling summer burn through the fall
Winter's coming on, days getting dreary
and I'm thinking this is the season
that I leave you all
I've heard a man in crisis
falls back on what he knows best,
a murderer to murder
a thief to theft
And I don't want you to think
that this is some kind of deathbed confession
but run is what I did when put to the test
My first recollection is a day in December
747 tracing lines through the sky
like some old gypsy curse
silently preying upon the dreams of those
who jealously watch life pass by
I've sat and watched my troubles
pile through the summer
now I'm sitting, hearing my youngest cry
down the hall
Winter's coming on, days getting dreary
and I'm thinking this is the season
that I leave you all
I've heard that the son must bear
the burdens of the father
but it's the daughter that is left
to clean up the mess
And I don't want you to think
that I'm asking for absolution,
but run is what I did when put to the test
black iron steam engine covered in ice
like some Precambrian monster
moaning and snorting
Nothing was ever going to beat that beast
in a fair fight
I've sat and watched the woodpiles
grow through the summer
now I'm sitting, smelling summer burn through the fall
Winter's coming on, days getting dreary
and I'm thinking this is the season
that I leave you all
I've heard a man in crisis
falls back on what he knows best,
a murderer to murder
a thief to theft
And I don't want you to think
that this is some kind of deathbed confession
but run is what I did when put to the test
My first recollection is a day in December
747 tracing lines through the sky
like some old gypsy curse
silently preying upon the dreams of those
who jealously watch life pass by
I've sat and watched my troubles
pile through the summer
now I'm sitting, hearing my youngest cry
down the hall
Winter's coming on, days getting dreary
and I'm thinking this is the season
that I leave you all
I've heard that the son must bear
the burdens of the father
but it's the daughter that is left
to clean up the mess
And I don't want you to think
that I'm asking for absolution,
but run is what I did when put to the test
Credits
Writer(s): Michael Edward Timmins
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2025 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.