Thanksgiving
Poi Dog Pondering

Somehow I find myself far out of line
from the ones I had drawn.
Wasn't the best of paths, you could attest to that,
but I'm keeping on.
Would our paths cross if every great loss
had turned out our gain?
Would our paths cross if the pain it had cost us
was paid in vain?

There was no pot of gold, hardly a rainbow
lighting my way.
But I will be true to those red, black and blues
that colored those days.
Would our paths cross if every great loss
had turned out our gain?
Would our paths cross if the pain it had cost us
was paid in vain?

Thanksgiving for every wrong move.
Thanksgiving for every wrong move.
Thanksgiving for every wrong move.

I owe my soul to each fork in the road,
each misleading sign.
'Cause even in solitude, no bitter attitude
can dissolve my sweetest find.

Thanksgiving for every wrong move.
Thanksgiving for every wrong move.
Thanksgiving for every wrong move.

That made it right.
That made it right.
That made it right.
That made it right.
That made it right.

Would our paths cross if every great loss
had turned out our gain?
Would our paths cross if the pain it had cost us
was paid in vain?


Thanksgiving for every wrong move.
Thanksgiving for every wrong move.
Thanksgiving for every wrong move.