The Gap Year Chronicles

We’re stitching notes into the fabric of time 
we’re the junk yard choir that brings the tempo to life
we follow the shadows on the road that unfolds
but our aching bones still have a long way to go 
with accordions and ukes and the metallic tin flutes
we branch out to the world but stay true to our roots 
we’re swimming up stream against the force of the tide
and in my head all I hear is the howling wind cry:
We sink or swim