The worry is not over, but we’ve weathered the storm.
The bears are all sleeping and the porridge is still warm.
The winds are all settled, the airs quiet and still.
Alice is still looking for the cure from a pill.
The journey continues without cares or a map.
It’s a cold bitter feeling, feet beginning to tap.
It’s only serenity that’s wrapping me now.
The delusions of power have left me somehow.
I’ve taken a step putting one foot out front.
Didn’t call any names, didn’t call her a … just punt.
