Peripheral Thought from Fahuazhen 法华镇 by The Horde

He looked down at his gold watch
He couldn’t believe the time
If only he had remembered
Life was far from sublime

The air was crisp against his face
Rocks crumbled beneath his feet
He stumbled on a crooked path
Next time he’ll do it differently

The belief that time heals all wounds
Is only but a myth
One thing we should learn too soon
Is a little forgiveness

He tried to focus on the path
Counting cracks on his walk
Using past experiences
And peripheral thought

Car horns, traffic, and bus stops
Birds, bugs, children, and tree leaves
Are things he used to stop
And take his time

Take his time

• Acoustic
• Americana
• Epic folk
• Shanghai