The Wind

I let the wind whistle for me

For I cannot whistle easily

Like the wind I want to be free

I would like to lie upon the sea

I would like to cool people down

When the sun is golden crown

I would like to sweep away its heat

And pull the rug from under its feet, sayin’

Ha-ha, don’t be a hothead

Or you’ll turn from gold to red

Like a leaf in the fall

I thought you were grand, but maybe you’re small after all

And I can blow you out like a candle

I let the wind whistle for me

For I cannot whistle easily

I just sing when I should sleep

It’s my way of counting the sheep

One and a two and a three

It’s four, the hour of melancholy

and since I cannot whistle easily

I let the wind whistle for me

I let the wind whistle for me

For I cannot whistle easily

I just want to be free

I wrote this song while I was studying at the University of Toronto.

I was living on the eleventh floor of a new residence building called Morrison Hall (the only & foolish reason I chose to live there... It was like a hospital, with white lights that never turned off. I felt like I was living inside a submarine.)

And from my bed, I could hear the wind roaring against my big window pane.

Five years later, I'm still asking myself what it means to be free, & probably will be for a long time...