Chorus A child's voice not alone Memories Conversations on the phone Histories We were part of a unit from winter to fall The trees going red through the film of time We're kissing one another, up against a wall Sweet breath and fresh scents, just a hint of lime This feeling had no end, it was true everyday This was something old and new, close and faraway It was love at first bite, just a taste of youth In our own little bubble, waiting for some truth Histories of our lives, we remind ourselves How we loved one another, just like wistful elves And the children are our pride, and a bit of us Histories of ourselves, yes just a bit of us