Not knowing in what season this again br Not knowing when again the arms outyearning br Nor the flung smile in eyes not knowing when br br Not sure beyond all doubt of full return br Not sure of time now nor the film’s reversal br This all done opposite, the waif regathered br br Like our lost parents in the blinded song br We bag in hand with wandering steps and slow br Through suburbs take our solitary way br br Not that all clouds are garrisoned and stung br Not that horizons loom with coppered legions br Not that the year is dark with weird condition br br All who parted in all days looked back br Saw the white face, the waving.