I’mma let you finish, but Robert Frost had the best woods of all time.
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by Robert Taylor Swifrost
Looking at it now, it all seems so simple.
We were lying on your couch, I remember.
You took a Polaroid of us
Then discovered (then discovered)
The rest of the world was black and white
But we were in screaming color.
And I remember thinking...
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
Looking at it now, last December
We were built to fall apart, then fall back together.
Your necklace hanging from my neck,
The night we couldn't quite forget
When we decided (we decided)
To move the furniture so we could dance
Baby, like we stood a chance
Two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying.
And I remember thinking...
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?
Twenty stitches in the hospital room.
When you started crying, baby, I did, too
But when the sun came up, I was looking at you.
And I remember thinking...
Are we out of the woods yet?
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
I walked out and said, "I'm setting you free,"
But the monsters turned out to be just trees.
And when the sun came up, you were looking at me
Oh! I remember thinking...
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Are we out of the woods yet?
Are we out of the woods yet?
Are we out of the woods?
Are we in the clear yet?
Are we in the clear yet?
In the clear yet?
Good.
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"Out Of The Woods On A Snowy Evening"