It's past midnight, and I've got only three ways:
Does it actually matter where to go?
The hands lowered, the roots rised.
Taking a coin for good luck, I hope the hand won't slip.
The first road is to sit and wait patiently,
To be calm as rock and absolutely peaceful.
Only the wind knows, how much willpower is needed
Not to go nuts and instead to wait for your fate beautifully.
The second choice for me it to shake the dust off and dash,
Saying "I'm sorry but I can't stay"
And flit into the obscurity of the winter.
Both we and the animals know well how to freeze.
I won't say a word about the last way:
It's different for everyone - "hop" and here you go.
The phone lines know how easy it is.
Everyone will eventually see this way.
Always, always, always, always, always...