When One Thing Ends

When one thing ends where do I go? Sitting on the back porch looking out at the snow I see a solitary red light glow I guess my dad smokes And there may be no grace in death But there sure is grace in the way you danced with me at the Union Tea It's ok that you're always looking for more light How do I know what I was meant for? My hands have been changing slowly, but surely Into things not meant to create, and I stand by And I stand by How do I know what I was meant for? How do I know what I was meant for?