Lion - Peter Wolf Crier

Winter’s come

You say you’re leaving

It doesn’t make sense now that you’re gone

But I could risk a sorry

As a fool would not be so hearty

And maybe I could be your lion

One who foresees you walking out

Spring had come

You I said you owe it to me

It does not make much sense to all full grown

As clouds became parted

A return to where things started

As maybe I could be your lion

One who retreats when called upon again