It's almost winter now.
It's cold and getting dark.
Much like life seems for us,
And so we're counting pennies.
We've saved them absent-mindedly,
Just a little pocket change
In a cider jar, I'd swear somehow
For just such an occasion.
And each one is precious.
One step closer to a pack
Of cheap cigarettes or a soda,
And maybe even food for dinner.
Now suddenly each one counts.
When you have money,
Pennies are worthless,
Somehow meant to be collected.
They'll help us make it
Through another day,
Through another winter.
Until, with hope, luck changes.
It's almost summer now.
It is warm and bright and breezy.
Much like life is now for us,
And so we don't need pennies.
Now we drop pennies, dimes, even quarters
In the cider jar each night
Because they get so heavy
In our pockets.
We have everything we need,
And almost everything we don't.
We are flying so high right now,
And bargains are only tedious.
Nothing second-hand for us.
It all seems like a fairy tale
Happy endings await us here,
And it seems nothing can stop
Our runaway good fortune.
Each day becomes just another chance
To see how high above despair
We can fly in this life.
Soon, everything means little to us both.
It's almost winter once again.
Too early is it dark and cold.
So much as life has been before,
So once again, we are counting pennies.
We've fallen from the highest heights,
And only hope keeps hope alive.
No more silver dots the jar of copper
We needed those coins the other day.
It's not much for the both of us;
Getting used to having everything,
But maybe pennies which meant nothing then
Can get us through another day.
This role of ours is well rehearsed.
We both know each scene by heart.
So why then, with my fingers, filthy
From counting pennies, do I cry?
So thank God for aspirations,
And thank Him too, for cidar jars.
We'll make it through this time again;
Counting on pennies and counting on change.
