The roses are yours
But the vase is mine
The windows are yours
But the door is mine
The trees that drop their leaves
And the melting snow are mine
While you hold the firs and lichen
Blazing in the summer heat
The rain in the empty streets
At four in the morning
I will trade with you
For five of your mountain days
I'll even throw in my dead gold watch
All my time included for one more time
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