Confession On The Deathbed

My first recollection, a day in December
Black iron steam engine covered in ice
Like some Cambrian monster
Moaning and snorting
Nothing was ever going to beat that beast
In a fair fightI've sat and watched the woodpiles
Grow through the summer
Now I'm sittin', smellin' summer burn through the fall
Winter's coming on, days gettin' dreary
And I'm thinkin' this is the season
Where I leave you allI've heard a man in a crisis
Falls back on what he knows best
A murderer to murder, a thief to theft
And I don't want you to think
That this is some kind of deathbed confession
Umm, but run is what I did when put to the testMy first recollection is a day in November
Seven forty seven tracin' lines through the sky
Like some old gypsy curse
Silently praying
Upon the dreams of those
Who jealously watch life passing byI've sat and watched my troubles
Pile through the summer
Now I'm sitting, hearing my youngest cry down the hall
Winter's coming on, days getting dreary
And I'm thinking this is the season
That I leave you allI've heard that the son must bear
The burdens of the father
But it's the daughter that is left to clean up the mess
And I don't want you to think
That I'm asking for absolution
Umm, but run is what I did when put to the test