I watched your cheeks flush, colored by an air from a calgary cold front Your breath made ghosts spill into the night, And gather as if they might not disappear. I had heard a rumor you were moving back home! But even if it was true, i did not expect to hear it from you so bluntly. So it hung in the air like a fever, or a slow moving front And i would not find shelter here, so i braced myself "Out!" i cried, "out! Are you running to or are you running from? Or does it even matter if it won't change your mind?" When you put you hand on mine, I knew.