Gold's pouring through the leaves at the end of the summer of the Backyard Tree. Gone are the mountains and the flowered days of spring. I'm waiting for the fall air, then the snow melt when the ground's bare and I can have some peace of mind that I made it out alive. I've never felt so scared. Oh, it's been a year. I was once a lion, and I roared so loud. Now my teeth are filed down "but that's all right." I got a taste of mortal blood, and I lost my footing and I lost my guts. It's a sense of definition, this curse of better vision. I've never felt so scared. Oh, it's been a year.