By the cathedral. Into the sun. Pilgrims are singing. Their journey done. I look at my short life and think. Of all the champagne that I drink. With all the faces that I know. And how much further can one go?. And if I decide. To step aside. I will try to reply to the feelings I hide. I look from my window. Down to the square. At workers still queueing. Patiently there. For market forces to provide. What history so far denied. For a different kind of fate. Than to labor long and always wait. And if I decide. To step aside. I will try to return to the person inside. Will I always need you?. Would you want me too?. Can you love me for good?. That way you thought you could?. Or will Spring bring rain and Summer burn. Will tears at last precede the time. From Summer warmth to sudden cold. As certainly as growing old. And if I decide. To step aside. I will try to forget all the tears I'll have cried