A month of nights, a year of days.  Septembers drifting into Mays.  I set my sails when the tide comes in and I just cast my fate to the wind.  There never was,  there couldn't be, a place in time for men like me, who face the dark and laugh at day and let their wildest dreams blow away.

I do love you so, Kyle!  You wild, tender heart.  You make each new day wonderful.