Apologies to the delicious summer breeze that is drifting through the window at this very moment. Contrary to my lyrics, the air is not still and I am not waiting on the wind. This song deals with the way in which we might overanalyze decisions when we're a little older, in contrast to the way in which we might have followed our gut reactions when we were a little younger. I think I'm just barely old enough for this kind of comparative exercise. The problem is that time's contrasts are biased by forces like nostalgia. I envy my younger self's spontaneity, but I might be neglecting to remember the prices I paid for his lack of foresight.
lyrics
Waiting on the wind
The air is still once again
And I'm standing on an empty road
I am wondering which way to go
Once, I was younger then
Arms thrown around my self-confidence
I was standing on a busy street
I was following the sound of my own feet