I walked out on a winter night
I felt like I was driven
A bundle tucked beneath my arm
A debt to be forgiven
I turned up 14th Street and Pine
Above the distant traffic's roar
Reached a crest and dropped my bag
I won't be your secret anymore
I lit a fire on the hill
Winter snow had drifted high
Watched the smoke from letters spill
Into the ink-black midnight sky
Your words were mingled with the stars
Every line you wrote that I adored
Time has come for this to end
I won't be your secret anymore
I next threw on the things you gave
All of those well thought out gifts
They were enfolded in the blaze
They turned to smoke and up they drift
Photographs and poetry
Those chimes I hung outside my door
Reduced to ashen memory
I won't be your secret anymore
I stayed until the fire died
That was shortly after sunrise
I tried to burn the memories
But they still smoldered deep inside
Slaves, they say, revere their chains
Prisoners fear the open door
I'll hope someday that I'll be free
I won't be your secret anymore