Say What?

What makes you hold the breath
what makes you lose your way
what makes you tied to the post
what makes you lose away
the shining back the little bird
that wants to fly in the sky
to keep the track of the winds
and back towards the sun
to shine like a silver dime
that makes you follow the day
all in my heart I want to speak
what I wish to steer away
all in the night and all in the day
as you may and as I may
oh dear me, I wish to hear
all that you say.
Old in my steps, I pave the track
with a cataract in the eyes
and stoop in the back
slowly, I gather all my grey hair
and look to evening sun to say
bye to the time and to the watch
that stood the test of the time
true; it’s false, it’s false, I say
I wonder what makes you stay away
clear in the history, and in the mystery,
it’s false, it’s false, come what may.